


Do the Stars Gaze Back?

by 13Vivacious13



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Fantasy AU, Galra Keith (Voltron), Human Pidge, Rainforest, Stardust AU, Unicorns, flirty robot, i don't think it's going to be too graphic, if it is i'll add the warning, it's a vld stardust au starring plance with keith tagging along, lotor is a straight up villain, pidgance, plance, shiro and allura are mentioned all of one time, some violence, star!lance, that's basically it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-05-06 01:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14631453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13Vivacious13/pseuds/13Vivacious13
Summary: When her father and brother go missing, Katie Holt is determined to find them - even if it means traveling through a land of magic and mystery. Accompanied by her best friend and an annoying boy who claims to be the evening star, she must battle pirates, witches, and a power-hungry prince to save her family and find her true love.(Psst. This is basically a Plance Stardust AU with Keith tagging along as an adventure buddy.)





	1. A Snowdrop

**Author's Note:**

> "Maybe that's what life is... a wink of the eye and winking stars." - Jack Kerouac

"Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at the stars because we are human?" 

Daniel Kogane finished his drink. "Hmm?" he asked. 

Samuel held up the book he was reading, and Daniel rolled his eyes. His friend was an avid scholar, which made no sense in a town as tiny as theirs. Good business sense and hard work were all a person needed to live comfortably in the village of Wall. Daniel didn't hold much by books, and he was certain most normal people didn't bring a gigantic tome with them to the town pub. 

Scooting his stool closer, Samuel pointed to a passage in his book. "It's a philosophical question. Interesting, right?" 

Daniel flagged down the barkeep and ordered another pint of ale. He mulled the question over as he took a sip. Memories of his boyhood self sleeping under the stars on hot summer nights swam before his vision. 

"Kind of pointless, really," he finally replied. "We're going to look at them either way." 

Samuel frowned, thought about it, and shrugged. "I guess you're right," he chuckled, stowing the book away in his satchel and pulling out an already opened letter. "I got an answer, by the way." He flicked it across the counter to Daniel, who picked it up. He took a moment to inspect the seal from the Royal Academy of Science before starting to read. 

_Dear Sir,  
_

_Thank you for your inquiry concerning the existence of another world beyond The Wall surrounding your village. In our opinion, the hypothetical existence of such a gateway would run contrary to all known laws of science. Subsequently - in the opinion of my esteemed colleagues and myself, the idea may be safely dismissed as merely colorful rural folklore.  
_

_I thank you again for your inquiry and hope that our conclusion will enable you to proceed with your-_

Daniel snorted and handed the letter back. "Well, what were you expecting? Did you really think a scientist from London was going to confirm your mad belief in _faeries_?" 

"Why do we have a Guardian then?" Samuel demanded, his expression twisting into something like real frustration. "Why does old Slav stand out there day and night if there's nothing worth protecting?" 

Daniel smacked his glass against the table and glared. It was an argument they'd had on and off for years, and he was sick of it. "Sam, I understand the appeal, okay? I grew up with the stories too. I remember how much fun we had as boys looking into the hollow of every tree for pixies, or following fireflies because we thought they were will o' the wisps. But we're not kids anymore, and you have a wife and a son who are depending on you. Trying to find a magical faerie kingdom will lead to naught but trouble. It's time to put all of that behind us." 

Glaring back, Samuel stood and stuffed the letter into his pocket. "I suppose you're right, as you always seem to be." 

"Sam-" 

"See you tomorrow." 

Daniel tried to fight off the guilt worming its way into his stomach as he watched Samuel storm out of the pub. It wasn't like he was wrong. Faeries weren't real, no matter what local legend said, and they certainly didn't live in a magical realm on the other side of The Wall. 

He ordered another drink. 

* * *

 

Just beyond the borders of Wall, it's namesake could be found in an open field. 

The Wall was rather simple. It was made from plain grey stones, held together by crumbling mortar and moss, and barely reached four feet in height. What made it special was its length. It stretched from one end of the horizon to the other in a perfectly straight line, a continuous grey band save for one spot. This gap, where The Wall had been knocked down by a forgotten hand in an unknown time, was were Slav stood guard. 

Everything about Slav was as skinny as a beanpole except for his eyes, which were impossibly round and bulged at the slightest provocation. They did so now, as the stumbling figure of Daniel Kogane approached him in the purple twilight. 

"What is your business here?" he asked, leaning against his walking staff. 

Daniel was belligerent. He pointed across The Wall to the field beyond. "Just going for a stroll... and proving my friend wrong," he said, trying not to let on that he was the tiniest bit tipsy. 

An indignant shudder ran through Slav's body. "This Wall has been guarded every hour of the day for three hundred years, and you want to go for a stroll?!" 

Daniel groaned loudly and looked at the stars for patience. "Look, it's just a field!" he shouted. "What's the harm of walking around a field?" 

Slav's eyes bulged even more and he poked Daniel in the chest with his staff. "If you do not cease and desist in this foolishness right now, I will most certainly report you to the village council," he warned, his thin brows furrowing dangerously. 

Another poke convinced Daniel to back up a few steps and run a hand through his dark hair. "Right, right, I'll just be head back," he said, his eyes flickering from Slav to the gap in The Wall before turning and walking toward the village.

"See that you do," Slav said. He swiveled around and hobbled toward the stool and book he'd brought with him to while away the time. 

The rapid thud of footsteps fell on his ears too late, and he could only gape as Daniel ran past him, leaped the gap, and crossed The Wall into the field beyond. 

"N-no! Wait! Stop!" Slav shrieked, but Daniel didn't stop. The Guardian watched as he sprinted across the field into the trees beyond. 

* * *

 

Only once he was well into the trees did Daniel slow down. He leaned against a tree, fighting back the triumphant grin threatening to overtake his features. Breaking the oldest law in his village really wasn't a praiseworthy deed, but he just had to put this whole faerie nonsense to rest. Better he get into trouble than Sam. The only family Daniel has was an older brother who'd gone off to join the navy. 

After he'd caught his second wind, Daniel kept going. A clean, cool breeze rustled through the treetops and kissed his brow as it swept by. He breathed in deeply. It really was a shame people weren't allowed to come here.

The field sloped up into a hill, and after ten minutes he reached the top. There were no trees around, so he had an unimpeded view of the valley below. 

At first, the thought that maybe he'd had too much ale. It just... didn't make sense. 

There, nestled in the heart of the valley, was an exact replica of the village of Wall. Daniel could see the pub, and the inn, and even the tanner's shop near the edge of the forest. As time went on and he kept looking, he was able to make out a few differences. Night had well and truly fallen now, and if this village really was Wall it should have been dark save for a few dim lights. This village shone with thousands of colored lanterns, a star midst of the surrounding forest. And the village square, normally empty after dark, was a hub of commotion. Carts and carriages were pouring into the town like drops of water pooling in the curve of a leaf. 

Unable to stop himself, Daniel stumbled his way down the hill. Lively music drifted into his ears. The tunes were completely foreign to him and when he was close enough to hear the singing accompaniment he didn't recognize the language either. 

He emerged from the forest onto a road and cautiously joined the crowds of people walking, riding, running down it towards... Wall? 

A thunderous BANG reverberated through the woods and Daniel swore as a brilliant flash of red and green bloomed across the sky. The strangers around him cheered and laughed. Daniel wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and pressed on.

There was a banner hanging in the entrance of the village, proudly proclaiming "MARKET DAY" in heavy black letters. Another flash of light, another bang, illuminated the streets and Daniel came as close as he'd ever been to fainting. 

He got plenty of odd looks from people as he slowly made his way toward the square, and he gave plenty back because _surely he must be dreaming_. 

It had to be a dream because people didn't have pointed ears, or three eyes, or six arms, or feathers, or _whatever_ else was hiding behind silk robes and heavy fur cloaks. Lanterns didn't just glow with no discernable light source. Dogs didn't walk on their hind legs. Old men in flowing robes didn't wave gnarled wands in the air and make gemstones appear out of nothingness. Goblins and gnomes didn't grumble and growl when he bumped into them. This wasn't real, this wasn't real, this- 

His courage broke. He tried to go back, go home, but he was swept up by the crowd and pulled along until he was finally deposited in the full-to-bursting square. More than fifty vendors had set up stalls, and each sold more fantastical wares than the next. Daniel gawked as a giant cat pulled out a bird cage with a tiny elephant inside. It trumpeted shrilly until the cat refilled its water dish. 

Another vendor, an old man, gestured for Daniel to come closer. "How would you like to change the color of your eyes, lad?" he asked, his own eyes rolling wildly. He pointed to a large jar on the counter, and as Daniel looked he saw several dozen eyeballs floating it in. They all turned to stare at him. He managed a weak smile and left without a word. 

It was all too much. The strange music, the fantastical creatures, the fact that when he pinched himself as hard as he could nothing happened... 

"Sam was right," he mumbled. 

A particularly rambunctious group of elves ran pushed past him and he nearly stumbled headfirst into another stall. He slammed his hands against the counter and just managed to stop himself from crashing into a bouquet of glass flowers. A low snarl reached his ears just before he was yanked back by the collar. 

An older woman with purplish-blue skin and sharp fangs glowered at him. 

"Watch it!" she hissed. Releasing him, she turned her attention to the rickety yellow caravan and shouted, "Get out here and tend the stall, I'm going to the pub!" Daniel cringed back as she stalked off. 

Once she'd turned the corner he leaned against the counter and groaned. He'd give anything to be home right now. 

"Can I help you?" a low voice asked. Daniel flinched and looked up. 

This woman also had light purple skin, but she... Daniel looked her up and down. She was far more beautiful. Her violet and magenta-streaked hair was pulled back in a low pony-tail, and two dark marks, almost like stripes, curved up her neck and cheeks. Her dusky purple eyes twinkled as she took in his enrapt expression. 

"See something you like?" she teased, fiddling with the hem of her red dress. 

Daniel blushed and finally looked away, settling on the display of glass flowers before him. "I- yes, I want- um..." he grabbed a glass bluebell and held it out to her. "H-h-how much?" he stuttered. 

The woman gently plucked the flower from his grasp and considered him thoughtfully, her head tilting to one side. "Hmm... it depends. It could cost you all of your freckles, or your ability to see the color green." 

She laughed at his stricken expression and set the bluebell aside. Her hand hovered over the bouquet for a moment before pulling out a small, perfect snowdrop. 

"Trust me, you want this instead. It'll bring you good luck," she insisted, reaching over the counter and tucking the flower into the breast pocket of his jacket, right over his heart. 

Swallowing, Daniel looked at her warily. "What will it cost?" 

Smiling, the woman tapped her cheek. "A kiss." 

Haltingly, Daniel leaned in. At the last second, the woman gently cupped his jaw and tilted it until he was kissing her lips instead. His eyes closed as a warm thrill of pleasure coursed through him, and he leaned in further. 

When she finally pulled away, the woman beckoned him to join her behind the counter, which he did so willingly. 

"Follow me," she said, walking up the folding steps that led into the caravan. A faint clanking sound made Daniel look down. 

A thin silver chain was draped across the ground. His eyes tracked it across the cobblestones and up the stairs, where it finally looped around the woman's ankle. Daniel frowned as a sickening thought came to him. The woman noticed and sighed, pointing in the direction the other woman had gone. 

"That witch tricked me into being her slave," she explained. With a flick of her wrist, she produced a black dagger and offered it to him. "Will you liberate me?" she asked. 

Daniel snatched the knife in one hand and stooped to grab the chain. It really was thin, and with one sharp tug, he easily cut through it. To his dismay, the chain immediately knitted itself together. 

The woman took his hand. "It's a magic chain. I'll only be free when she dies." Her expression was kind, with a tinge of despair that brought tears to Daniel's eyes. 

"But-" A wave of helplessness choked him, and he had to try again. "If I can't liberate you, what do you want of me?" he asked, begged, because oh how he wanted to be useful to this woman. 

She pointed to the inside of the caravan, and Daniel saw a small, cozy bed nestled to one side. Then, she gave him a look that left him speechless and blushing like a rose. He let her pull him into the caravan. 

In the brief moments they had together afterward, the woman, Krolia, told him as much as she could. She told him how The Wall was the border between the human world and that of the Fey. The country that ran alongside The Wall was called Daizabaal and it was ruled by her people, the Galra. Before Daniel left, Krolia made him swear to keep the snowdrop close. He sealed his promise with a kiss. 

Nine months later, Slav showed up at Daniel's house with a baby and two letters. One letter was for him, and one was for his purple-eyed son, Keith.


	2. A Necklace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Keep your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ground." - Theodore Roosevelt

20 years later...

Time moved on as it always did, bringing growth and decay to everything it touched. The village of Wall got a bit bigger - a proper post office was established and a "real" schoolmistress was hired to teach at the one-room schoolhouse. Children grew into adults, and adults grew into elders. Grandchildren were born, grandparents died. The only two things time couldn't touch were The Wall and it's Guardian. 

Slav looked the same as he ever had. Yes, his cloak consisted more of patches than the original fabric, and yes, his boots were scuffed beyond all reason, but Slav himself was unchanged. He was still thin and wiry, his grey beard untouched by any hint of white. The only real difference was his demeanor. He no longer sat on his footstool and read a book, instead he constantly paced in front of the hole in The Wall and kept his bulging eyes glued towards the village. 

He'd only had two mishaps during his career as Guardian. He would not have a third. 

On one particular day, as Slav was pacing, he saw a small figure make its way toward him in the grey pre-dawn light. He tightened his grip on his staff.

The foggy shadow approached, coalescing into a young woman with long tawny hair and fiery brown eyes. She'd forgone the normal, respectable attire of a dress and petticoat for a simple white shirt and pants. 

Slav sighed. Of course. 

"Miss Holt, go home," he said as she approached. The girl scowled and didn't stop.

Slav held out his staff as a physical barrier. When the Holt girl tried to push it aside he nudged her stomach none-to-gently. 

"I have a right to find my family," she hissed. "Please, have some compassion-" 

A rustling just behind him caught Slav's ear, and he saw her eyes flicker to the right for less than a second. He whirled around and saw another figure sneaking towards The Wall. Even as he whacked the boy's knee and sent him tumbling to the ground with a pained yelp he could guess who this accomplice was. 

"Keith Kogane," he muttered. "Just like your father." 

* * *

 

Colleen Holt woke to the sound of someone knocking on the front door. For a moment, a tiny moment, a flicker of hope was kindled in her chest. She smothered it immediately. Samuel and Matthew both had keys. 

The knocking continued as she slowly rose from her too-large bed and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. "I'm coming!" she called, hoping that the commotion wouldn't wake her daughter. Katie had always been a light sleeper. She sleepily unlocked the door and opened it. 

Slav was standing on her doorstep, along with- 

"Katie!" Colleen gasped, taking in her mud-splattered, rain-soaked, sullen daughter. Slave released his grip on her shoulder and she bolted into the house, ignoring her mother's questions. 

Slav sighed and leaned against his walking stick. "I'm always willing to overlook it when a child tries to cross The Wall, it's in their nature to be curious, but Katie-" 

"Katie isn't a child," Colleen finished, rubbing her forehead in an attempt to quell the headache she could already feel growing in her temples. It was far too early for this. "I understand, Slav, and I apologize for any trouble she caused you. I promise I'll have a word with her." She smiled sadly. "She's normally such a good girl, it's just... when it comes to The Wall..." 

A pained look crossed Slav's features, and he shuffled awkwardly. "Entirely understandable. If anything, I am partially to blame for your family's misfortune." 

Colleen quickly grabbed one of his wrinkled hands. "No, no, Slav, you're a fine Guardian." 

He nodded slowly before turning away. "Just remember, if I catch her and Kogane's boy trying to cross again, I'll have no choice but to report them to the council." 

* * *

 

"Again, I apologize," Daniel said, trying to look sincere even as Slav gave him a wry look. He could hear Keith slowly making his way to the washroom.   
Slav leaned in and whispered oh-so-quietly. "You know, I wouldn't object so much to Keith wanting to cross, seeing as he's..." He made a vague gesture with his hand and Daniel raised an eyebrow. "But I can't allow Katie to go. Her mother's already lost so much." 

A familiar surge of guilt washed through Daniel, and he exhaled sharply. "I understand," he murmured.

After Slav left, he found Keith dabbing at a cut on his lip with a wet washcloth. An angry red bruise was forming on his jaw just under his ear, and he winced when Daniel gently touched it. 

"What happened, did you go a round of fisticuffs with Slav?" Daniel joked.   
  


Keith’s eyes met his in the mirror. "I should be so lucky. It's not fair when he's got that staff of his," he grumbled. He let the cloth slip from his fingers onto the table. With a weary sigh, he turned around and faced his father, folding his arms. "I'm ready." 

"Ready for what?" Daniel asked. 

"My lecture." 

"Ah." 

Daniel took a moment to consider his son. Tomorrow was Keith's birthday, and the fact that he would be twenty made Daniel's head spin. He'd grown into a fine young man, though much of the reckless boy still remained. Even now his purple eyes were alight with stubborn determination. When he tilted his head, the morning light shone on his heavy black hair and gave it a purple sheen. It took Daniel's breath away. 

Keith looked so much like his mother. 

"That can wait," he finally said, reaching into a different pocket and pulling out two letters. Keith's eyes brightened when he saw the stamp of the Royal Navy on it and eagerly grabbed them. He opened the letter addressed to him and scanned the contents, a delighted smile growing with each word.

"Shiro's a captain!" he whooped. 

Daniel nodded. He was very fond, and proud, of his nephew. "I was hoping you'd deliver the other one to Allura," he said, pointing to the other letter in Keith's hand. Keith nodded, too distracted by the good news to really pay attention.

* * *

 

When Katie finally emerged from her room in a clean dress and neatly braided hair, her mother had set out a bowl of porridge and a few rolls for her. Colleen herself was sitting at the head of the table, sipping her tea with a calm air that frightened Katie. Even sunlight streaming through the window didn't little to warm her mother's cool complacency. Katie was tempted to bolt out of the room. 

Colleen waited until she'd sat down and taken a bite of her porridge before saying, "You cannot go on like this." 

Katie slammed her spoon against the dark wood of the table. They usually waited until the afternoon to have their daily argument, but if her mother wanted to do this now-

Colleen inhaled sharply, and when Katie looked up she caught her mother winking away tears. The vulnerable curve in Colleen's shoulders momentarily took all the fight out of her. 

"I can't give up on them, mom," Katie whispered, trying her best not to cry herself. Between the two of them, they'd shed enough tears in the past year to fill an ocean, and she was so, so tired of it. 

Grabbing her daughter's hand, Colleen looked Katie dead in the eye. "It's been a year since they snuck over The Wall, Katherine. Whatever's beyond it is dangerous. I've lost my husband and my son, I will not lose you too!" 

Katie ripped her hand away. "They're not dead!" she yelled. "They're still alive, and I'm going to rescue them! I don't care if I have to fight a hundred faeries-"

"Stop!" Colleen snapped, tears running down her cheeks in earnest now. "I will not allow you to throw your life away pursuing faerie stories like your father!" 

Katie gasped in disbelief, and Colleen turned white. Never, not _once_ in Katie's life, had she heard her mother speak against her father's pursuit of the Fey. 

The belief in magic had been weaved deep into Katie's soul, as much a part of her as her own limbs. It was a belief inspired and nourished by her father. He'd taught her the exploits of Puck and Tam Lin along with the works of Socrates and Shakespeare when she was naught but a little girl. She'd fallen asleep to his stories of Tír na nÓg and King Oberon's faerie courts and dreamed of the magic realm she knew existed just beyond the village. She and Matt had spent countless hours looking for the Fey, from tracking down mushroom rings to hanging bells outside of their windows and leaving out a bowl of milk (the village cats loved the Holt residence). 

Of course, that sort of education was an anomaly in the village. Samuel Holt had been the town eccentric, tolerated only because he happened to be friends with Daniel Kogane, and no one wanted to piss off the town carpenter. Nevertheless, it was the general consensus that seeking after faeries was a fool's errand, and Samuel was the biggest fool of them all. 

Katie had never doubted her father's dreams. It stung to know her mother couldn't say the same. 

"You're never to go anywhere near The Wall again," Colleen said once she'd calmed down. "If I catch you stepping one foot outside of town, I'll-" 

"You'll what, thrash me?" Katie sneered. At seventeen she and her mother were the same size. 

Colleen's expression went rigid, and the coldness of her gaze made Katie's stomach drop. 

"Yes, if only to get your head out of the clouds," she murmured. "You need to learn to accept things as they are." 

"Never," Katie growled, rising from the table and rushing out of the room. Her mother didn't try to stop her.

* * *

 

The King of Daizabaal was dying. All of his generals were being summoned to the Fortress. 

* * *

 

Katie found herself standing outside the grocers without really meaning to. She'd just wanted to get _away_. It was hard to keep her faith when her mother was so... hopeless. 

A hand touched her shoulder and she yelped. Allura Altea quickly withdrew her hand and gave her an apologetic look. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," she said. 

Katie shrugged and looked away. She was feeling too sullen to make a proper reply, even for someone as nice as Allura. 

"I heard about your escapade this morning. How close did you get this time?" Allura asked, ignoring the younger girl's reticence. 

Katie snorted, news traveled like lightning in this damn town and as the village grocer, Allura was always kept up to date on the latest gossip. She held her thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart. Allura tsked in sympathy. 

"Allura!" 

Both girls turned as Keith jogged up to them. He handed a letter to Allura. Katie could tell by the way her face lit up that it was from her fiance. 

"I- Excuse me- Unless you need to buy anything?" Allura stuttered, pointing to the shop. It was evident she wanted nothing more than to disappear for half an hour and devour her letter. Katie and Keith both gave answers to the negative and Allura quickly excused herself back into the store.

After a moment Katie reached up and gently brushed her fingers against Keith's chin. "How's your head?" she asked. Aside from Matt, Keith was her oldest and dearest friend, along with being the only person in town willing to help her with her schemes. 

Keith shrugged and glared at a few passing children who were openly gawking at them. The kids snickered and ran away, excited to have gotten so close to the village crazy girl and the carpenter's scary son. 

"When are we going to try again?" Keith asked once they were out of sight. 

Katie sighed and looked down at her boots. If it were just a matter of hopping over The Wall, she would have done it the day after her father and brother had gone missing. But that wasn't how it worked. The Wall itself wasn't the barrier, it was that one, tiny spot. That one gap, less than two feet wide, that held the key to reaching the faerie realm. Her father and Matthew had managed to slip by Slav last year and go through the gap. Ever since then the old man had been more vigilant than a hen brooding over her eggs. 

A pebble caught her eye and she kicked it away. "We should probably wait a few days," she said. "Mother's... not happy." 

Keith nodded. "Dad wasn't as angry as I thought he would be," he confessed. "He's been acting odd all week. There'll be times when I think he's going to tell me something, but then he just-" He grunted and ran a hand through his hair. 

"Anyway, would you like to come over tomorrow night?" he asked, smiling a bit shyly. "It's nothing fancy, just dinner." 

Katie laughed. She'd known Keith all her life and he was still bashful about inviting her over for his birthday. "Of course, you dummy," she chuckled, punching his shoulder. "I wouldn't miss it." 

* * *

 

General Throk hummed under his breath as he sauntered down the hallway leading to the King's chambers. The Fortress was by far the largest and grandest building in Daizabaal. It was over one hundred stories high, an impressive feat that had been accomplished thousands of years ago by hollowing out the largest mountain in the kingdom and converting it into the nation's citadel

He paused by a window and smirked. The King's chambers were at the very peak of the mountain, and from here one could see the entirety of Daizabaal, from the far crags in the north shrouded by green mists to the thin grey strip of The Wall in the west to the pearl blue waves of the southern ocean. 

It was a magnificent view, and if Throk played his cards right it could be his very soon. 

Unlike the other Fey kingdoms where succession was determined by blood inheritance, Daizabaal had always be ruled by strongest among them. King Zarkon had won his crown nearly ten thousand years ago in a battle against twelve of the strongest warriors the Galra had to offer. Now he was dying, and it was time for a new king to earn the right to rule. 

Throk wasn't the strongest or best fighter, that title went to Sendak, but he knew how to make allies. Half the battle was already won if a warrior had enough supporters, and Throk already had half of the southern military in his pocket. His strategy was simple: unite them against a common enemy. 

"General Throk," a low voice echoed down the hall. Throk pivoted slightly.   
Speak of the devil. 

He resisted the urge to sneer as the Bastard slowly advanced with hands clasped behind his back. 

Lotor had never been officially acknowledged as Zarkon's son, and most of the kingdom didn't even know he existed. It certainly helped that he looked nothing like his father. He had not inherited his Zarkon's tall stature or strong build, instead, he was slender and short by most Galra standards. He had nothing to distinguish him as the scion of Zarkon. The only sign of his half-Galra heritage was his purple skin, but that was true about most half-breeds. His curved eyes, high cheekbones, and thin mouth very closely resembled that of his witch mother with whom Zarkon had dallied with five thousand years ago. 

Throk, like all of Zarkon's generals, wished she had taken the brat with her back to the crags. 

He forced himself to smile and nod at the half-breed. "Lotor, let me be the first to offer my consolation for His Majesty's poor health. Truly our country will be poorer without his guidance." 

Lotor's mouth twitched the slightest bit.

"I thank you for your kind words, General. Most would see this time as an opportunity to seize power, not a time to remember the legacy of a noble leader," he replied evenly. 

It was a sick game of pretend, and they both knew it. 

"I understand that the King wishes to see all of us in an hour... to discuss the succession," Throk said, turning back to stare out the window. 

The succession. The Kral Zera. Throk would make sure to kill Lotor first and foremost. 

"Indeed. It's a shame you won't be able to join us." 

Throk barely had time to gasp when a boot slammed into his back, launching him forward. The windowpane shattered from the force of the blow. Throk fell down the mountainside surrounded by flashes of color, sunlight bouncing off the fragments of glass. 

Lotor smirked and peered out the broken window, Throk's crumpled body lay still and motionless fifty stories below. 

One down. 

Footsteps. Lotor whirled around and half-drew his sword. Being pushed out the same window he'd just pushed one of his rivals out of would not be a fitting end.  
He relaxed when he saw his four trusted generals waiting for him. Zethrid, large and always up for a fight, chortled. 

"Did you hear him scream when he fell? That was hilarious," she snorted. 

Lotor flicked a bit of his long white hair out of his face. "It was rather amusing. And to think he was a candidate for the crown." 

Axca handed him a ribbon, which he accepted with a brief "thank you" and tied back his hair. "Come. My father is waiting," he commanded, heading for the royal bedchamber with his lackeys in tow. 

If he'd been of the kind of Fey that could commune with the dead, he might have seen a pale figure joining the ranks of all those he had killed. His ghostly victims grumbled among themselves as they trailed behind him - bound to this plane so long as their murderer lived. 

* * *

 

Zarkon could feel his time drawing near. Each breath felt like a lifetime, and his life had been far longer than most. Even propped up as he was by several silk pillows, it didn't stop the frequent coughs that wracked his weakened frame. 

Around him, he heard the hushed whispers of his doctors, his generals, his servants. All of them just waiting for him to die. He was ready to die.   
He opened his eyes to the sound of the door opening and watched his illegitimate heir enter the room.

Lotor walked to the King's bedside and the other generals gathered around and stared at him expectantly. Ranveig, Prorok, Ladnok, Janka, and his right hand, Sendak. Most of them were fools, but some truly knew of strength and leadership. Daizabaal would not suffer from his absence. Still, it was his final duty to ensure his throne went to the most worthy. 

A hush fell over the room when he slowly unclasped a necklace - the truest and most important remarkable symbol of his authority. Attached to a simple silver chain was a large sugilite. It glowed with an inner fire, bathing his face in a brilliant purple glow. 

"You all know our ancient traditions," he intoned, watching as each general stared at the jewel. 

"Kral Zera: the battle to determine who is most worthy. Only the greatest warrior will be able to defeat their rivals and claim the Flame of Daizabaal for his own." 

His eyes slid over to Lotor. His son, wise and cunning despite his unfortunate heritage. But was he worthy? 

He waved a weak hand toward the window facing east and two servants hastily opened it. It was night outside, the stars shone bright against their indigo backdrop. 

Zarkon rubbed a thumb over the gem. It flickered once and the light slowly dimmed until it resembled a plain black rock. 

"Only the most worthy Galra will be able to find and rekindle the Flame," he rasped. His vision was blurring at the edges. It was time. 

He cast one last enchantment on the necklace. The sugilite remained dark, but the chain glowed and started to float in the air. A bit of his old strength rushed back into his limbs, just enough for him to sit up and throw it up, up, up into the sky. It was out of sight within seconds. 

Zarkon, King of Daizabaal, fell back against the pillows and died. 

* * *

 

The necklace kept ascending. It flew above the clouds, past the farthest reaches of the night and into the realm of the stars. 

Most of the stars had been watching what was happening with great attention. A Kral Zera didn't happen often, and it was always amusing to observe the Galra scurry around for a bit. None of them had expected the necklace to actually reach their home, nevertheless, it was easy enough for them to dodge it. 

Easy enough for all but one star... one star who was a bit distracted. 

The necklace and star collided with a titanic crack, knocking the star out of the sky and toward the Earth. His brothers and sisters could only watch in consternation as he fell. 

* * *

 

Katie laid a bowl of milk outside her window like she always did before bed. The neighbor's cat hopped onto the windowsill and started lapping at it, purring when Katie gently scratched behind his ears. 

Something flashed in the corner of her eyes and she looked up. A shooting star was streaking across the sky. She watched with rapt attention as the star left behind a beautiful trail of stardust, only to groan as it landed in the forest beyond The Wall. 

The milk shook from the vibrations of the not-too-distant crash and the cat let out a nervous _mrrt_. Katie soothed him with a sigh. That star was yet another thing just out of her reach. 

* * *

 

Haggar did not like being disturbed during her meditation, but the news was too important. 

She looked up in annoyance as one of her druids bowed low before her, daring to enter her private vaults. Behind his white mask, the acolyte trembled at the fury he could see swelling in his mistress' glowing yellow eyes. 

"What is it?" she demanded, her long robes whispering against the obsidian tiles as she rose from the floor. 

The druid bowed lower. "Mistress, a star has fallen in Daizabaal." 

A star in Daizabaal.

The memory of an intoxicating taste sent a thrill of pleasure down Haggar's spine. 

She would find that star. She _needed_ that star.


	3. A Candle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves." - William Shakespeare

Waking up was painful.

There was a consistent throbbing in his head and his leg, both exacerbated by the cloying press of gravity against his heavy limbs. It took a few minutes to convince himself to open his eyes.

His brothers and sisters gazed down at him, oh so far away.

He slapped a hand over his mouth and stifled a sob. The other hand tightened around a black stone hanging from a silver chain. Unconsciousness once again tugged at the corners of his vision, and he welcomed it gladly.

He'd fallen.

* * *

 

Haggar looked over her collection of cursed daggers. The blades varied in length from a foot long to smaller than her middle finger, all of them glowed a sickly purple aura. She grunted and finally settled on an eight-inch blade with a sturdy handle. Time was of the essence, she had none to waste.

One of her masked druids approached as she exited her private chambers and bowed low, offering her a small black bag. She emptied its contents into the palm of her hand. Seven black stones covered in ancient script softly clacked against each other. Runestones weren't the best choice when it came to pinpointing an object's location but by far the most reliable in giving truthful answers to yes-or-no questions. She had already divined the star's general location - about one hundred miles to the south in the Olkari Forest - it was simply a matter of finding it before any other witch.

As she hobbled down the hall she once more cursed herself for using up the last Babylon Candle five thousand years ago. To think she had wasted it and so much of her time on that Galra king.

The corridor opened into the great hall. Nearly all of her druids were gathered there, reverently crowding around the raised dais in the middle of the expansive room. A circular window on the roof allowed moonlight to illuminate the black granite altar that rested on the dais. Haggar slowly climbed the stairs leading up to the altar, almost doubling over in her efforts. It had been too long; she had deprived herself for too long.

The altar's surface was completely smooth except for one spot. Haggar let a wrinkled finger run over the small nick in the stone. It had been her first time. She'd been too zealous, too nervous, and had driven the knife in with so much force that the stone was cracked.

She forced herself to crouch with a muffled groan. One druid swayed forward as if to help, but one look from her sent him stumbling to the back of the group. She pressed her hand against the base of the altar and _pushed_. Her hand sank into the stone, she fumbled about for a second, trying to find- There!

Her hand reemerged with a small silver box. Haggar's joints creaked as she got to her feet and placed the box on the table. A swipe of her thumb against the lock removed the protection spell she'd placed on it... three hundred years ago? No matter. The box opened without a sound

The lid lifted and an ethereal light bathed her gaunt face. Haggar couldn't look away. This light and the power that came with it was her reason for living. And soon she would have enough for a thousand lifetimes. She pawed at the source of the light, gripping it firmly.

All the druids saw of the box's contents was the tiny streams of luminescence that escaped from Haggar's clenched fist as she brought her hand to her mouth and swallowed. Her entire body started glowing, at first an airy blue aura, but it was quickly corrupted into a deep purple haze.

Haggar watched as her gnarled hands smoothed over, the liver spots disappearing and the constant tremors she'd dealt with in the last decade finally stilling. She could feel the rest of her body regaining its former youth, muscles strengthened, wrinkles vanished. Her white hair darkened to a pale mauve, the jagged red marks on her face shrinking until they were small curves under each eye. Speaking of eyes... Haggar looked at her reflection in the silver box and saw the yellow saturation leave her eyes save for the irises.

It was done in less than a minute. Haggar straightened and stretched her now supple arms toward the moon. She'd hobbled up the dais a crone, she now descended it a young woman.

"I will be gone but a few days, make sure everything is ready for my return," she commanded, enjoying the smoothness and lightness of her voice. It reminded her of simpler times when she'd just been Honer-

One of the druids offered her a thin silver chain. Of course, she'd need it if the star proved stubborn.

As she exited the hall she heard a druid barking at the two slaves she'd acquired last year, ordering them to dust the hall and polish the altar.

She nearly skipped like a little girl, she was so happy.

* * *

  
"Happy Birthday!"

Keith grunted from the force of Katie's hug, actually stumbling back a few steps as she launched herself at him. "Thank you," he coughed out once he'd managed to pry her hands from his waist. "Can your present please be not breaking any of my ribs?"

Katie stuck her tongue out and slipped past him into the Kogane residence. She found Keith's father sitting in the small parlor, idly reading the newspaper. He grinned and stood to shake her hand. "I thought I heard you come in, thank you for joining us."

As she took his large, calloused hand, Katie noticed a slight tremor in his grip. She looked him over as discretely as she could. Mr. Kogane had aged well, the only real difference between the man she'd known as a small child and him now was his greying temples and the appearance of crow's feet at the corners of his eyes. Still, she'd noticed for several years that he moved as if weighed down by a heavy burden - a burden that had only increased when her own father and Matt disappeared. Today it looked heavier than ever.

Keith poked his head into the parlor. "Everything's ready," he said.

Mr. Kogane withdrew his hand and shoved it into his pocket. When he grinned, there wasn't much force behind it. "Let's eat then, by all means. And afterward, I have... something for you." His eyes darted back to Katie. "For the both of you, I think." Katie and Keith exchanged confused looks. They slowly submitted to Mr. Kogane's urging to head for the dining room and supper.

* * *

 

The council chamber was only a few levels below the King's private quarters. Servants handed out wine to the generals gathered around the large table in the center of the room. All of them avoided sitting near the large west-facing windows. News of Throk's death had reached them earlier that morning.

Ladnok tapped her fingers against the table impatiently. "Where's Sendak?" she demanded. "He's the one who called this blasted meeting."

Prorok huffed in agreement. "I could be out there finding the Flame right now."

They both sneered when Janka cleared his throat with obnoxious pomposity. Of all the generals, aside from the Bastard, the tubby midget was the least qualified to rule. He'd gotten his high position from commerce and trade of all things, and it was rumored that he'd shamefully run from the battlefield on multiple occasions.

"I've heard that Lotor is already gone. He left last night," Janka simpered, holding his glass up to admire the way the late afternoon sunlight gave the wine a ruddy red glow.

Snorting, Ladnok finished the rest of her glass. "Who cares, only a true Galra warrior can ignite the Flame."

"Well said."

The three generals gaped as Lotor calmly walked into the room. The only sound to be heard was the faint click of his boots as he walked past the table and leaned against one of the windows. All the servants had disappeared.

"I'm afraid your informant was rather mistaken, Janka," he said, idly flicking at the cuff of his collar. "As you can see, I am still here. I do regret that I wasn't able to convince Sendak and Ranveig to stay for our little meeting, I'll simply have to deal with them later."

Spluttering indignantly, Prorok slammed his fist against the table and shot to his feet. "What are you talking about? Sendak was the one who summoned us!" he barked, staggering a bit.

Lotor shook his head and sighed. "Oh, my stupid friend, let me explain. _I_ arranged this gathering. I knew that you might not agree if you thought I wanted you here, so I ordered the servants to tell you Sendak had called for the meeting."

Ladnok scoffed at this and swayed to her feet. "You're right. I'm not interested in dealing with weakling bastards," she slurred.

The corner of Lotor's mouth twitched.

"And I am not interested in allying myself with dullards. I simply wanted to ensure you enjoyed my refreshments," he replied coolly. There was a beat of silence.

Janka gasped and threw his glass away, the blood red wine splattering across the table. It was too late, of course. All three of them could feel their limbs growing heavy even as their stomachs surged in protest.

"You... rotten bastard..." Prorok choked, trying to grasp his sword but failing due to his numb fingers. He toppled to the ground.

Ladnok tried to make for the door. A ripple of agony sent her doubling over onto her knees. "Poisoner... just like your... witch... muh-" She gagged on her last sentence.

Lotor waited until Janka's eyes glazed over before leaving. Ezor was waiting for him at the door, rippling into sight as she stripped away the glamour that had kept her invisible.

"Four down, two to go!" she chirped.

A snap of Lotor's fingers brought a servant scurrying to his side. "Prepare my horses, immediately," he ordered, and the servant bowed low before running off. He eyed his bright-eyed general with faint amusement. "I wouldn't celebrate just yet. Ranveig and Sendak will be our toughest adversaries. We must act quickly if we are to find the Flame."

Three more ghosts joined his entourage.

* * *

 

Daniel led them up to the attic. There wasn't much clutter, neither he nor Keith was the sentimental type... save for a few things. He pointed to two stools in the corner, gesturing for Keith and Katie to sit.

"Dad, what's this about?" Keith asked. He watched his father pull out an old chest from behind a broken wardrobe. As a child, he'd played up here often, but he'd never laid eyes on that chest before. His father pulled out a key and unlocked it, letting the lock clatter to the ground while he rummaged around. A small, "aha!" had Keith and Katie leaning forward eagerly.

Straightening, Daniel found a chair and pulled it over so he could sit across from them. Without a word, he held out both his hands to Keith. In one was a strange, black knife engraved with a bright purple rune; in the other was a glass snowdrop. Keith slowly took them, handing the snowdrop over to Katie and inspecting the knife. He'd never seen anything like it before. It was small but heavier than it looked. He didn't know whether it was a trick of the light or not, but the rune seemed to glow when he ran his finger over it.

As for Katie, she was incredibly fascinated by the snowdrop. It was by far the most delicate piece of glasswork she'd come across. She could make out tiny green veins running through the snow-white petals, and there were tiny glass drops of dew clinging to its leaves. To the casual observer, this would look like a real, living flower. The longer she held it, the calmer she felt.

"Mr. Kogane... where did you get this?" she asked. Keith nodded in agreement, unable to look away from his reflection in the blade.

* * *

 

He woke up again just as the sun was setting the next day.

Groaning, he sat up and inspected his surroundings. He was in the center of a giant crater - Well, where else would he be? - and he could see the charred remains of trees stubbornly clinging to the lip of the hole. If he could climb out, perhaps he could-

His attempt to stand left him clutching his right leg and sobbing. Something was terribly wrong with his ankle. The tiniest movement of his foot sent a shockwave of pain down his leg. He wasn't used to this. He'd never felt anything like this before.

Unbeknownst to him, the faint blue aura that had surrounded him up until this moment flickered out.

When the pain finally subsided he tried sitting up without moving his legs. That worked a bit better, and he was able to reach out and grab the necklace that had fallen from his grasp. He inspected the stone, shuddering at the way it seemed to absorb the moonlight rather than reflect it. He unclasped the chain and put it on.

* * *

 

By the time Daniel finished his story, Katie was trembling from head to foot. She felt light-headed. It was unbelievable, incredible. She-

"I have a mother," Keith whispered. Katie stared at her friend. He was completely still, his hands loosely gripping the blade. His face was so, so pale.

Daniel looked at the two of them, and even though he'd hunched in on himself, that weight on his shoulders seemed to be gone. "I've wanted to tell you for so long," he murmured. "I hoped that-"

"Why didn't you tell my dad?!" Katie yelled, a sudden swell of anger rose in her chest and nearly choked her in its intensity. Daniel flinched. She was standing now, her fist clenching around the snowdrop so hard it dug into her skin. Oddly enough, she wasn't concerned about it breaking. It was of Fey make, after all.

Years filled with books and late-night studies flashed across her memory. Nights filled with dreams and hopes. All those letters her father wrote, all those papers and journals he'd rooted out. Nearly two decades worth of people pointing at her family, snickering, laughing, all while Samuel's friend stayed silent.

"Why didn't- If you had just _told him-_ " she wheezed. There wasn't enough air in this musty old attic. When the floor started dipping out from under her she felt Keith grab her arms and force her back onto the stool. "You should have told him," she whimpered.

The snowdrop fell from her limp fingers and bounced onto the floor. As she suspected, it didn't even chip. Daniel slowly bent down and picked it up.

"Katie, breathe," Keith instructed, rubbing his hand up and down her back. It took a few minutes, but she managed to clear her head enough to sit up straight and glare at Daniel.

Mr. Kogane stared back, misery and weariness written all over his face.

"I _did_ tell him," he admitted. Keith's hand froze.

"It was a year ago. I was so tired of everyone in this town putting him down all the time, I thought that he deserved to know he was right." Mr. Kogane's shoulders started shaking. "So I told him. I told him everything I told you. He was so excited, just like I knew he'd be. I didn't think he'd try to cross The Wall. I didn't think he'd take Matt. By the time I realized what he was going to do, it was too late. Katie-" He broke off and covered his eyes.

"It's my fault," he whispered.

A heavy, brooding silence echoed through the attic.

Katie was nothing if not a rational person, and her mind quickly forced itself to accept the fact that Mr. Kogane was wrong about one thing: it wasn't his fault. Her father and brother had decided to cross The Wall, and she was sure nothing Daniel could have said would have stopped them. No, her father and brother had gotten themselves into trouble, and she would get them out of it.

Keith seemed to have similar thoughts because when Katie looked up his face had hardened into something fierce and determined. "We're going to find them, Dad," he vowed, placing a firm hand on his father's shoulder. "Mr. Holt, Matt... and Mother." His voice cracked, and he looked toward Katie with some uncertainty.

"Of course we will," Katie affirmed, because honestly how could they not include Keith's mother in their quest?

Daniel looked at the two of them, a wan smile stealing over his countenance. He pulled something out of his pocket. "Before you go bothering poor Slav again, read this." He held out a roll of parchment that had been tied with a piece of twine. "Your mother left this for you, too," he explained, handing it to Keith.

Katie watched him untie the string and unroll the paper, revealing a letter written in flowing blue ink and a small candle the color of tar. Keith cleared his throat and read aloud:

_"My dearest Keith,  
_

_Please know that I only ever wanted the best for you. If my mistress had allowed it, I would have kept you in a heartbeat. Even though I must let you go, my dearest wish is to see you again someday."_

Keith paused and wiped at his eyes. The hard edges of his frame softened a bit.

_"The fastest way to travel is by candlelight. Light the candle, then think of me and only me. I will think of you every day for always.  
_

_Your Mother"_

Another silence, more peaceful this time, fell over them.

Katie's eyes trailed to the candle in Keith's hand. "So... this candle will take us to your mom?" she asked.

Keith shook himself out of his reverie and inspected the candle.

"I guess? That's what the letter says. Where's a match?"

Daniel held up a hand. "Wait a minute, you're going now? Right now?!"

"Yes!" Keith and Katie said in unison. They couldn't wait, not a single minute.

After a few seconds, Daniel seemed resigned to their decision and retrieved a match from inside his coat, passing it to Keith and tucking the snowdrop into his son's breast pocket. "For luck."  

Keith and Katie stood, each of them gripping the candle with one hand. They'd waited too long for this opportunity, they wouldn't wait any longer.

"Wait, who are we thinking of first?" Keith asked.

For a long, terrible second Katie was tempted to say her father. To be able to see him at a moment's notice...

"Your mother gave it to you so she could see you again. We'll go to her first," Katie finally answered. Keith nodded solemnly and struck the match.

The realization of what they were actually doing - crossing The Wall _via faerie magic_ \- nearly sent her reeling.

They were going across The Wall, they were going to find her family. She was going to meet the Fey. Now that she thought about it, Keith was half Fey. She'd been friends with a faerie this whole time. She... was leaving her mother. Her mother was going to lose her, but only for a short time. Only until she'd rescued her father and wait, wasn't she supposed to be thinking about Keith's mother? How was she supposed to think about someone she'd never met? How was Keith supposed to think about her? Would it even work? This was a candle after all, how could it even-

She did what she always did when she panicked: she started babbling.

"I'm sure your mom can help us find my dad and Matt, once we free her. And maybe she can get us some more candles. They seem really useful - if they work. They probably work-"

Keith nodded, too focused on the task at hand to notice her minor meltdown. He touched the head of the match to the wick, but it didn't light up right away.

"-Maybe we can even use one to find that star afterward, wouldn't that be cool?"

Keith's purple eyes met hers, his brow furrowed.

"What star?" he asked.

The candle ignited.

Daniel barely had enough time to shield his eyes as a dazzling yellow light engulfed the room. The floorboards shook, the rafters shuddered. All the light condensed around them, illuminating the very bones in the bodies.

They vanished with less than a whisper. Daniel Kogane was left alone in his attic.

* * *

 

Katie was sublimated and reformed at the same time. Nothing about her felt solid. It was too bright, too much, not enough, she was neither here nor there. There were only two constants: she was moving, and Keith was moving with her.

Was this it? Was she dying? It felt like nothing would ever stop this constant state of flux.

Time didn't exist until it suddenly did again.

She could feel herself slowing down, condensing. Air had a purpose again and she was gasping for it.

Below her, she could see the tops of trees zooming by. The wind whipped against her face and made it hard to see, but it looked like they were approaching a crater?

No, _she_ was approaching the crater. Keith was gone. There'd been a bump, some turbulence,  then Keith's presence had disappeared.

The crater was closer, so close, closest. She was diving, aimed straight for the ground, straight for the middle. Her eyes closed of their own accord.

She'd stopped. The stillness was all the more terrifying.

Katie felt something soft and slightly squishy underneath her. It wasn't the hard, blacken rocks she'd seen, that was certain. She pressed her palm against it and felt a heartbeat.

Her eyes flew open and she scrambled to her hands and knees.

She was sprawled across a very strange, very _angry_ boy.

"Y-you're not Keith's mom," she mumbled.

"Get. _Off."_


	4. A Unicorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations." - John Green

"S-sorry, sorry! Hold on-" Katie did her best to untangle her limbs and get off the poor stranger she'd just flattened. She was still dazed from the entire experience. What was she doing in a crater? Where-

Katie staggered to her feet and looked around. The bare walls of the crater were the only things to be seen aside from the tops of trees and the night sky above them. Nothing and no one aside from that... and the boy.

He seemed to be having trouble getting to his feet. All of his attempts ended with him groaning and clutching his leg. Katie walked back to his side and held out the hand that wasn't gripping the candle. "Are you okay? Let me help you-"

"Go away!" he snapped, hunching his shoulders. Katie stumbled back, shocked by his venomous tone. She looked the boy up and down. Dark brown skin that gleamed in the moonlight and contrasted beautifully with furious blue eyes, darker hair that swept over his forehead and curled around his ears in soft waves. His clothing was foreign to her, a strange mercurial material that shimmered and rippled down his lean frame. Something flickered around his neck, but Katie couldn't make it out while he was curled in on himself.

Whatever. She had more important things to worry about. For instance...

Katie cupped her hands around her mouth. "Keith! Keith, where are you?!" Her lonely cries echoed off the sides of the hole, and she heard the stranger hiss in irritation. She flipped him the bird without bothering to see if he noticed.

(He noticed if his offended gasp was anything to judge by.)

"KEITH! COME ON!!" she screamed, her voice cracking from the effort.

Where was he? Where, for that matter, was she? What was she doing here? She inspected the black candle. Half of it had burned away, leaving her with little more than a stub.

"'Think of me'", she repeated the line from the letter under her breath. "But we were thinking of... Oh, _damn it._ "

They had been thinking of Keith's mother until Katie mentioned the star.

"Me and my big mouth," she groused, swiping a hand over her face. Now she was stuck in the middle of a strange forest, Keith was _gone_ , all because she'd been thinking about that stupid, stupid star!

...Where was it anyway?

Katie inspected the crater with more interest. This was obviously where the star had fallen; the soil near the top of the crater had been freshly upturned, and the ravaged trees still reeked of smoke. She had no idea what a star looked like - a meteorite, perhaps? - but there was no sign of anything special. Her eyes wandered back to the brooding boy and she tucked the candle into her pocket.

"Hey." The boy glared back. With his thin lips twisted into a pout, he looked almost as young as her. "This might seem weird, but have you seen a star anywhere?" she asked.

He stared at her incredulously for a moment before sneering. "Are you serious?" he retorted. He uncurled a bit, revealing a silver chain and a black pendant of some sort.

Katie gestured around them. "I mean, this has to be where it fell. It's got to be somewhere nearby unless someone already took it."

He flinched and swallowed hard.

Why was he-?

Katie barely had time to register his fickle mood before he lurched himself to his knees. "Yeah, this is where it fell," he answered, his voice and expression becoming entirely too sweet for Katie's liking. "If you want to be really specific," he continued, grabbing the pendant and pointing it towards the sky, "Up there is where this damn necklace knocked it out of its home where it was minding its own business. It fell over there," he pointed behind Katie toward the center of the crater. She looked over her shoulder and inspected the ground a few yards away. If the star had been there before, it was gone now.

When she turned back, the boy's face twisted into an annoyed scowl.

"And over here is where it got hit by a _Magical. Flying. Moron!_ "

To Katie's credit, it only took half a second for everything to click.

"You're- you're the star?!" she squeaked. It made sense, in a weird way. "Sorry, I just... wasn't expecting... _you_." Her incredulous tone only seemed to offend him further, and he turned his back on her.

"No, hey, hey! When I... flew in, did you see anyone else with me?"

The boy- the star's brow furrowed further, but now it took on a confused curve.

"No...?"

Katie buried her face in her hands.

* * *

 

Haggar hadn't expected to find anyone in the foothills of her mountains. Perhaps her prolonged absence had allowed the memories of her fearsome exploits to fade from the minds of the populace. As it was, she'd stumbled across a curious scene. Namely, two common Fey being held at swordpoint by the second-largest Galra she'd ever seen. He'd cornered them against a large boulder and was growing more violent with every passing moment.

"I won't repeat myself again," the soldier growled, pressing the sword point into the male Fey's neck hard enough to draw blood. "Empty your satchel, now!"

The male's partner, a tall woman dressed in a blue tunic and breeches, snorted in disgust as she slowly tugged the sachel over her shoulder. "I thought we were the thieves," she muttered.

"Nyma, the sun to my moon, please shut up and do what the nice man says," her partner squeaked.

Nyma unceremoniously dumped the bag's contents onto the ground. Haggar heard the rattle of coins and saw the glint of jewels in the feeble moonlight. "This is all we got, small pickings for a commander," Nyma sneered, backing up and pulling her partner with her as the Galra knelt down to inspect the loot. After a few seconds of searching, he snarled in frustration and got to his feet.

"I would kill you slowly for such insolence, but I've no time to waste." The Galra raised his broadsword high above his head.

"Stop."

Purple tendrils of light curled around the soldier, holding him in place. He tried to yell but was promptly gagged. The two Fey turned to regard their savior.

The robed woman with blood red markings was unlike any Fey they'd ever met before, and her golden eyes, while beautiful, lacked any sympathy. She tsked at the soldier as she approached, taking a moment to shake her finger at him. "Oh Sendak, you nearly cost me a valuable means of transportation. Your haste will be your undoing."

The captured Galra grunted, obviously perplexed.

The strange woman laughed. It was a beautiful sound, like a small brook tumbling down a gentle hillside. Nyma shivered. "Rolo," she whispered and tilted her head, signaling that it was time to run. Rolo nodded. They both shuffled back a few steps.

The stranger pulled up her hood until it nearly covered her face. "Perhaps this will help you recognize me?"

Sendak's eyes widened in recognition. A low growl seeped out of his chest.

"Don't be like that. I promise to reward you well, I just need- Hold on a tick."

The woman kept her eyes fixed on Sendak and snapped her fingers.

Rolo and Nyma were gone. In their place were two skittish horses, one a light grey, the other a beautiful palomino. Haggar cooed and grabbed the palomino's reins, shushing and petting its shoulder until it calmed down. With another snap of her fingers, Sendak was free.

He raised his sword again, half-heartedly, before sheathing it. Haggar laughed again and mounted her new horse. Zarkon had long ago pointed out Sendak as a rising star, a prodigy in combat and a brilliant tactician. An alliance with him, temporary though it may be, might be beneficial.

"I'm on a quest that will increase my power tenfold. Help me, and I'll find that silly necklace for you quicker than you can blink," she offered.

Sendak mounted his new horse without a word. They both knew he had no real say in the matter.

* * *

 

"Don't you ever sleep?" Katie demanded, cracking one eye open and glaring at the boy. The star glared back. He picked up another pebble and threw it against the wall of the crater. Every clacking sound it made as it bounced off other rocks grated on Katie's tired nerves. She readjusted her jacket into a more comfortable pillow and tried to sink back into a doze.

_Click-clack-clickclackclack._

A few seconds of blissful silence.

She grunted when a pebble hit her nose.

"Seriously?!" Katie jumped to her feet and stalked toward the unrepentant star.

"It doesn't take a genius to know stars have better things to do at night than sleep," he snarked. "You know, coming out, _shining_ , that sort of thing."

Pidge dodged the next rock he flicked her way. Sighing, she picked up her rumpled coat and shrugged it on. "You know what? I've had enough of you." The star's eyes widened when she started climbing up the side of the crater.

"W-wait! Where are you going?" He tried to get to his feet and stumbled.

"To find my friend. I figured it would be better to get some sleep first, but since that's clearly not an option-" The loose gravel slipped out from underneath her feet and she skidded back to the bottom. Katie placed her hands on her hips and considered the crater walls. Her left hand pressed against something in her pocket.

Katie gasped and pulled out the candle stub. "I really am an idiot," she muttered, looking around for two stones that might be suitable for sparking a fire. Why had she wasted so much time when the candle could send her straight to where ever Keith was?

"You have a Babylon candle?!"

The star lurched forward, finally managing to get to his feet and leaning against the sloping wall for support. His eyes were glued to the black candle. For a moment, Katie could have sworn she saw him glow.

"Are you- wait! Please, let me have it." He grabbed for the candle. Katie smacked his hand away and dodged back a few steps.

"Why the hell should I-?"

"Please, _it's my only way home!_ "

Katie glanced up, the stars were starting to fade in the predawn light.

His knees buckled and Katie barely had enough time to catch him before the boy landed face first onto the rocky ground. He clutched her shoulders desperately while Katie managed to get them both into a sitting position.

"Please. I just want to go home." Tears gathered in the corner of those deep blue eyes. Katie bit her lip. As annoying and rude as this boy was, she could understand his distress. Being separated from your family was the worst kind of pain.

Katie shoved the candle back into her pocket. The boy whimpered and opened his mouth to beg once more. "Listen!" she interjected. "This candle isn't mine. It belongs to my friend. If we find him and he says you can use it I'll give it to you, okay?"

The star's shoulders slumped and he nodded. Katie resisted the urge to wipe his tears away. Instead, she focused on his legs. The boy was barefoot, and now that she was paying attention Katie could see his one of his ankles was terribly swollen. She ran a finger over the mottled blue skin and he flinched.

"Do you mind if I-? Never mind, I'll just..." Katie grabbed the hem of the boy's pants and tugged several times until it ripped. She kept at it until she'd torn off enough fabric to wrap his ankle. He moaned from the pain several times, but once she'd finished he hesitantly placed his foot on the ground, testing it's response to pressure. With some help from Katie, he stood up and kept his footing.

"Thanks... The name's Lance, by the way."

Slinging an arm over her shoulder, Katie returned his tentative smile with one of her own. "I'm Katie. Let's see if we can't get out of this crater, hmm?"

* * *

 

Having left the mountains behind, miles and miles of open grassland stretched out before the witch and the general. Sendak focused on the road ahead, doing his best to ignoring his whistling companion.

It was a sorry state of affairs he found himself in, forced to be at the beck and call of the witch who had seduced his king thousands of years ago. Only the remembrance of her great power kept him in check. The witch, while twisted in her ways and magic, was somewhat honorable. At the very least she rewarded those who helped her. Sendak had not seen hide nor hair of the Flame, if Haggar could summon it he would endure almost any indignity.

A quick glance in her direction had him fighting to conceal a sneer. She had used her magic to make herself look even younger than he remembered. It was ridiculous that such a slight, maidenly form should conceal such corruption.

Haggar shaded her eyes and pointed to a grassy hillock. "Look! I do believe there's a caravan ahead. What say we stop by and hear some local gossip?" Without waiting for a reply, Haggar chucked her reins and urged her palomino into a trot.

The caravan wagon was a shabby, pitiful thing. Even the horse grazing nearby looked unkempt and miserable. Dried herbs swung from baskets tied to the side along with cheap talismans and sigils. A swallow was chained to a built-in perch by a silver chain, it cocked its head at them as the rode up.

A Galra woman was hunched over a fire, roasting what looked to be a skinned cat on a spit. As the travelers approached the woman stood and grabbed a nearby staff. She was tall, almost as tall as Sendak, and seemed ready to fight both of them off.

"What do you want?" she demanded, tucking some of her ragged hair behind one ear.

Haggar laughed and dismounted, holding up a placating hand. "Oh, relax. I know what you are, and I swear by the ordinances of the sisterhood to which we both belong that I mean you no harm this day."

The woman relaxed, and Sendak tensed. Another filthy witch.

"Well, forgive me. Can't be too careful on these roads," the woman said, settling back into her seat.

"May we share your meal?" Haggar asked, eyeing the cooked cat. The other witch tilted her head and hummed in thought. Nodding, she snapped her fingers. The swallow flitted to the ground, growing and changing until it had disappeared completely, replaced with another Galra woman.

This new woman, obviously a slave, glowered at the witch.

"Don't just stand there, get them a seat!" the witch barked.

The slave entered the wagon and returned moments later with two stools. She set them by the campfire with little grace, keeping her eyes on the ground as she passed Haggar and Sendak. Another snap of the witches fingers turned her back into a swallow and she flew back to her perch.

Haggar sat down daintily, pulling out a handkerchief and spreading it over her lap. She motioned for Sendak to join. He shook his head, opting to stay with his horse. Nothing could induce him to share a meal with witches.

Shrugging, the other witch pointed to the cat. "Head or tail?"

Licking her lips, Haggar grinned. "Head, please."

The other made quick work of the cat, cutting it in half and placing it on a plate. "Hold a tick, I've got some potatoes to go with this," the witch said, hurrying to the wagon.

Sendak watched in silence as she grabbed some potatoes and, furtively looking over her shoulder at Haggar who was once more consulting her runes, sprinkled some herbs over them from one of the hanging baskets. The general thought about telling Haggar, but decided against it.

Both witches dug into their meal, Haggar especially taking delight in it. The other witch was more composed, her eyes trained on her guest rather than her plate.

"So, where are you headed this fine day?" the witch finally asked.

Haggar looked up, her eyes cloudy. "I seek a fallen star," she said, a smile growing with each word. "It fell not far from here, you know. When I find it I shall take out my great knife and cut out its heart, and the glory of my youth will... be restored..." Haggar paused, looking at her plate then at her host. The other witch listened intently, a greedy glow lighting her features.

Haggar flung her plate away from her, rising to her feet in the same motion. Her hazy eyes were now sharpened to steel. "You dare steal truth from my lips by feeding me limbus grass?!" she gasped, pointing to the scattered bits of potato. The other witch leaned back in her seat, grinning smugly.

Thunder rumbled above them. Sendak looked up and saw nothing but clear skies. The swallow chirped twice, hopping on her perch.

"Do you have any idea what a big mistake you've made, Trugg?" Haggar asked, her voice too calm to bode any good.

Stiffening, Trugg squinted at Haggar. "Who are you?"

"Look again."

Haggar's eyes glowed yellow, her marks growing into long slashes across her face just as Sendak remembered. Trugg whimpered and fell from her seat, bowing before her. "Forgive me, Your Dark Majesty. I shall not seek the star, I promise-"

She shrieked when Haggar threw out her hands, a dark purple aura enveloping them both. The swallow tried to fly away, only to be tugged back by the chain. Sendak grabbed both horses before they ran off.

_"Seek all you wish. You shall not see the star, touch it, smell, or hear it. You will not perceive it's presence even if it stands before you."_

Ripples of power flattened the grass around them in a perfect circle as Haggar finished her curse. The aura disappeared and Trugg slumped, her eyes glazed over. She made no move to speak or stop them as Haggar mounted her horse and led Sendak away.

"Why didn't you kill her?" he asked once the caravan was out of sight.

Haggar tsked in annoyance. "Because I gave my word not to harm her. Remind me not to do that again." She inspected her arm and scowled.

Sendak looked at her arm and saw liver spots on her once flawless skin.

* * *

 

Lance tripped over another protruding root and stumbled against Katie's back. She sighed and helped him regain his footing. "Watch where you're going, please," she muttered.

Watch where- Impudent human girl! "I'm not the one who decided to ignore that perfectly good road we found and go hiking through the woods," he snapped.

Katie planted her hands on her hips, side-eyeing him. "Yeah, well, that road wasn't going east. Keith and I came from the east, so that's the direction we need to go to find him."

"Unless he wasn't a dumbass like you and decided to find a proper road. Are you even sure we're still going east?"

She paused, uncertain, and Lance took some perverse satisfaction from it even if it meant they were both lost. Studying the treetops, Katie finally shook her head. "Yes, you can tell by the position of the sun." She sprinted ahead to a clearing and studied the sky. "And if you look up in the sky, even during the day, you can tell your way by the evening... star?"

Lance bit his lip, not sure whether to laugh or cry.

"I don't see... where is it?" Katie spun around, her eyes fixed on the heavens as she searched for the star that should have been there.

Catching sight of a tree surrounded by mounds of moss, Lance hobbled to it and sat down. "You're hilarious," he said, stretching his injured leg out and elevating it against the trunk.

Katie gawked at him, the pieces finally coming together in her tiny human brain. "That was you! Really?" She grinned in amazement, and Lance was forced to admit she looked a lot nicer when she smiled. It quickly faded when she noticed his languid position.

"Hey, we just had a break twenty minutes ago!"

Lance settled further into the moss. "Yeah? Well, my leg doesn't agree."

"If we keep going at this rate, we'll never find Keith. Get up!" Katie stomped her foot.

Blinking back tears of exhaustion, Lance looked to her pleadingly. "Katie, it's _midday_. I never stay up this late. I need some sleep." His voice cracked several times, but he was just too tired to be embarrassed. Katie visibly softened, kneeling down next to him and gently pulling his foot into her lap.

Lance watched her unwrap his ankle, both of them grimacing at its condition. It looked worse, though whether it was because of all the walking he'd done or simply because they were seeing it in daylight, Lance had no idea.

"I bet I can find some herbs to help with the swelling," Katie said, looking at the surrounding forest. She rewrapped his ankle while she deliberated. "You stay here and rest, I'll go look."

"Maybe find something to eat while you're at it?"

Katie pursed her lips. "Anything else?"

"How about an actual bed?"

The girl snorted and let his foot drop to the ground. Lance yowled and clutched it, glaring at her retreating figure.

* * *

 

In the dusty blue light of dusk, the south seas were a dull iron grey, nearly the same hue as the pebbly beaches where Lotor and his entourage stood. He was motionless, save for the brisk wind that ruffled his long hair.

"Bring the soothsayer," he ordered.

An older Galra shuffled out of the group and hobbled to Lotor's side. Half of his face was obscured by a heavy black cloth wrapped over his mouth, but the creases in his forehead were all Lotor needed to see how nervous he was.

Lotor swept an arm out towards the sea. "You said go south, and south we went. Now what? Do you suggest we swim?"

The soothsayer fumbled with a red pouch at his belt, pulling out the four runestones that had guided them there. They were pearly white, with runes carved into one side. "I can only consult the runes, sire, perhaps if you-"

"Wait." Lotor pointed to a large, flat stone nearby. "I want to see this myself." Pausing less than a second, the soothsayer followed Lotor to the stone.

"Am I the son of Zarkon?" Lotor asked. The soothsayer shook the runestones in his hand for a few seconds before pouring them onto the rock. All four of them landed with the runes facing up.

"Yes," the soothsayer replied.

Lotor nodded amicably. "Is my favorite color blue?"

Again, the runes faced up.

"Yes."

"Has excessive begging or pleading ever swayed me to spare the life of a traitor?"

Hands trembling, the soothsayer took up the runestones again and shook. This time, when the runes fell, the blank sides faced up.

"What does that mean?" Lotor asked, looking genuinely fascinated.

"It means... no."

"Right, right. Now take them, and throw them up high."

The soothsayer hesitated. "What is your ques-?"

"Now."

The soothsayer obeyed. Just as the runes reached the apex of their ascent, Lotor stared the soothsayer down and asked, "Are you working for my enemies?"

The stones landed rune-side up.

Lotor gutted the soothsayer like a fish.

Wiping off and resheathing his sword, Lotor swept the runestones into his palm. "Do we go back north?" he asked, throwing them into the air. The ghosts hovering behind his shoulder made way for the newcomer.

* * *

 

Lance woke up at nightfall, still alone. Glancing up at his brothers and sisters, he concluded at least seven hours had passed. Where the hell was Katie?

A twig snapped nearby and he flinched.

"Hello? ...Katie?"

He received no answer save for a chill breeze.

Lance swallowed, a sour taste building in his mouth. He was such an idiot. The girl had abandoned him. She didn't give a damn about him! All she cared about was finding her friend, and it was clear she only saw Lance as an annoying third wheel. The worst part of it all was that he'd given her the easiest escape possible.

He rubbed the bandage around his ankle. Actually, the worst part was the tentative trust he'd placed in her, a trust so clearly undeserved.

More snapping branches. Lance perked up.

"Katie?"

Now he could hear footsteps growing louder.

"Katie, c'mon, this isn't funny!" he yelled. Lance nearly bit his tongue when a large, bulky figure emerged from behind a clump of trees. That wasn't Katie.

A friendly nicker reached his ears, and the creature stepped into the clearing. "Oh!" Lance gasped, reaching out a hand eagerly.

The unicorn was gorgeous, pearly white from her graceful horn to her long tail save for a few streaks of blue in her mane. She whinnied and nudged her velvety soft nose against Lance's cheek. He stroked her neck and shoulder, reveling in her beauty. Of all the creatures on this planet, unicorns were the closest to his kin.

Having gotten her fill of petting, the unicorn knelt down. It was as clear an invitation as Lance had ever seen, and he hopped onto her back. He gripped her mane to keep his balance as she got to her feet. "Thank you so much... Blue?" He ran a hand through some of the blue hair. "Can I call you Blue?"

The unicorn bobbed her head up and down.


	5. An Inn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream." - Vincent Van Gogh

Katie yelped when she smacked into a low bush, nearly tripping over it in the process. She checked the bundle of herbs in her arms to make sure she hadn't lost any. Lance wouldn't be able to complain about that, at least.

She could already imagine what he'd say when he found out she had, in fact, gotten lost, and had resorted to climbing several trees to try and find their clearing again. "'Oh, the girl who's so good at navigating got lost? Imagined that.'" she mimicked, pitching her voice until it was nasally and shrill. "'Figures a human would be stupid enough to not retrace her steps.'" She clambered over a fallen log she was almost sure she'd passed several hours ago. It was hard to tell now that night had fallen. "Yeah, see if I do anything about that stupid ankle of his if he gives me any grief." Stupid star, she never should have-

Katie stumbled into the clearing. Squinting, she felt her way to the large, moss-covered tree. The moon emerged between two clouds, illuminating the forest.

No Lance.

"Lance?" Katie looked around, but there was no sign of the star anywhere. Her eyes fell on the ground nearby, where a trail of glowing cloven hoofprints led away from the clearing. Before she could follow, the moon vanished once more into the clouds and the trail disappeared.

"Lance, I'm back!" Katie yelled. After a few moments, she threw her bundle away and plopped onto the ground. Frustration overwhelmed her, setting her teeth on edge. The stupid boy was probably long gone.

Whatever, one less problem for her.

But what if he'd gone looking for her? What if he was lost? Her short time in his company had proved he was helpless on his own.

Katie clenched her fists, forcing herself to push the unpleasant thought out of her mind. "What he decides to do is none of your business," she muttered to herself. "You're better off without him."

She settled against the base of the tree, determined to get a good night's sleep.

* * *

 

Sendak was never one to laugh at... well, anything, but watching the witch struggle would always be amusing. "Are we lost?" he asked.

Haggar ignored him, throwing her runestones into the air and catching them in her palm. An annoyed hiss escaped her lips and she repeated the attempt several times while Sendak inspected the crossroads.

Night had fallen, but the light of the moon illuminated the white sand covering the roads and turned them into silver ribbons. One of the roads, the eastern one, led directly into the heart of the Olkari Forest, the edges of which could be seen on the horizon. The northern road, where they'd come from, twisted through the plains leading to the witch's mountains. The southern road led to the Wall and from thence the sea, the western road traveled back to the capitol. The crossroads itself was surrounded by a flat expanse of wild grasses turned grey and blue by the darkened sky. His view of the countryside was unimpeded in every direction for thirty leagues at least, but there wasn't much to see aside from the battered signpost.

Haggar stuffed the runestones into her bag and produced a silver compact mirror. Sendak peered over her shoulder just in time to see the image ripple and distort from Haggar's exasperated expression to that of a masked figure in similar garb. The person bowed low, whispering, "Mistress."

"The runes are giving me nothing but gibberish," Haggar snapped, getting right to the point. "They led me here, but the star is nowhere to be seen. I need a more concrete divination."

"At once, my queen."

The druid slid out of the scrying mirror's view. The squeal of an animal, a ferret perhaps, rose in volume before being cut off with a meaty squish. Moments later the witch's acolyte returned clutching a handful of bloody intestines. He muttered to himself as he held the gore up to the light, inspecting the liver and kidneys with special interest.

"Mistress, you must stay where you are. The star comes to you." More muttering. "But take care, suffering and grief have drained him. It will take an intricate trap to set his heart aglow once more."

Haggar tucked a strand of her grey-streaked hair behind her ear, eyes glazed over in thought. She nodded once and tucked the mirror away. Her gaze focused on a large swath of grass next to the signpost, a dimpled smile growing as her plan solidified. She waved a hand toward the spot and a cloud of purple magic flowed forth. It settled on the ground for an instant before shooting up into the air. The cloud split into hundreds of smaller whisps, each of them condensing into wooden beams, windows, doors and slate shingles. In the twinkling of an eye, a well to do inn had been erected, complete with an innyard, stables, and a tasteful weathervane perched on the roof.

"What do you think?" Haggar asked. Sendak grunted and swung down from his horse, gripping the reins and starting for the stable until the witch stopped him. "Ah, ah, I need them."

A snap of fingers. Rolo and Nyma exchanged terrified glances.

Haggar smoothed her hands over her robes, sparks of magic trailing from her fingers and transforming them into a plain brown dress with a white apron. She spun once, nodding in satisfaction, before turning her attention to thieves-turned-horses-turned-thieves-again and pointed to them in turn. "You," (Rolo whimpered) "are the errand boy and stable hand, just make yourself useful out here in the yard. You, girl, are the maid. You'll help me inside." Nyma bit her lip.

Regarding Sendak with a doubtful expression, Haggar pressed a finger to her chin. "Hmm, I don't suppose anyone would think you're my husband, would they?"

Sendak stared at her.

"No, no, I'll be the former innkeeper's widow, and you'll be the man I hired for protection. You'll take care of any companions the star brings with him. Simple enough?" She turned her back on him before he could answer, waving for Nyma to follow her inside.

Upon entering, they were greeted by the sight of a grand common room, complete with a bar, several sturdy tables, plenty of comfortable looking chairs, a large fireplace, and two staircases leading upstairs to the bedrooms and downstairs to the cellars. Nyma gawked at the fine silver cutlery laid out at one table and resisted the urge to pocket a few spoons for herself. The witch pointed to the stairs leading to the second floor.

"Go upstairs and prepare the largest room for our guest. I need to make sure his supper is absolutely perfect."

* * *

 

Blue was a great listener. She knew exactly when to toss her head or whinny encouragingly as Lance told her his story. When he reached the part just before she'd found him, when Katie abandoned him, she paused and swung her head around to look at him, as if to ask, _Are you sure?_

"Oh, I'm sure. That girl didn't want anything to do with me, and I didn't want anything to do with her!" Lance protested, waving his arms in the air then clutching Blue's mane when she resumed walking. "Who cares if she had that candle? I can find another one."

A disbelieving snort.

"I _know_ they're rare, I'll find another one no matter what it takes." His gaze fell to his bandaged ankle. "She... I refuse to believe she's the only one who can help me. You're the one who came to my rescue, Blue, not her."

They both blinked as they emerged from the trees and stepped out into a grassy plain. Lance leaned forward in his seat, pointing to a cluster of lights in the distance. "What is that? A homestead?" Blue flicked her tail and nickered. "Maybe we can ask them directions, or at least a place to sleep for the night."

* * *

 

_"Katherine."_

"Mmm?" Katie opened one drowsy eye. The source of the voice - or rather, voices - was nowhere to be seen. It was still completely dark, save for the moon and stars above. She rolled over and went back to sleep.

_"Please, Katherine, protect our brother. Lance is in grave danger. The unicorn came to help him, but now they're heading into a trap."  
_

_A bright light streaked across the sky, falling, falling, until it landed on the side of a mountain. The glow faded, revealing a young woman in a shimmering silver dress.  
_

_"No star is safe in Daizabaal. The last star to fall, 400 years ago, was captured by the same witch who seeks Lance now."  
_

_A cloaked figure approached the girl, holding out a slender, wrinkled hand. The star took it, nothing but gratitude radiating from her bright blue eyes. The witch lowered her hood, her golden eyes blazing._

Katie shivered in her sleep. She reached out a hand as if to pull the dream girl away from this woman.

_They were inside a large building now, the candelabras hanging from high ceilings and glass panels lining the walls dazzled the star maiden. More cloaked figures emerged from the shadows, bowing to the witch. Still holding the girl's hand, she headed for a large dais in the center of the room.  
_

_"The witch tricked her, cared for her."  
_

_The star lay down on the altar. Once she'd done so, the witch said something that made the star grin. The faint blue aura surrounding her grew brighter.  
_

_"And once her heart was once more aglow-"  
_

_More words, the star dutifully closed her eyes. The witch pulled out a knife.  
_

_"-she cut it from her chest, and ate it."  
_

_The star screamed._

Katie screamed, bolting upright. One of her hands reflexively clutched at her chest, rubbing it in an attempt to calm her racing heartbeat. Cold sweat dribbled down her chin, soaking the collar of her shirt.

_"There's no time to waste."_

Gasping, Katie looked at the stars. Was it possible, or did she just imagine that they burned with more fervor than usual? The voices grew from a whisper to a cascade, urging her to her feet.

_"A convoy is coming. Join them by any means possible."  
_

"Where-? How-" Katie broke off, listening intently. Just ahead of her she could make out the sound of distant hoofbeats and creaking wheels.

_"Run!"  
_

She ran.

She ran so fast it was a miracle she didn't barrel into a tree, nearly blinded as she was by the darkness. The horses and wheels were getting closer, spluttering torches flared in an out of existence between the trees, briefly illuminating a hitherto unseen road not fifty yards away. It would be close, the horses were moving fast.

One last burst of energy found her flailing onto the road just as the first two horses rounded a bend. Katie held up both her hands and squeezed her eyes shut. Alarmed shouts and the scrape of hooves against the dirt road rang in her ears, followed by the warm huff of a horse's breath against her palms. Daring to peek, Katie saw two riders clad in black uniforms staring at her incredulously from atop their steeds. Katie stared back, having never seen purple men before.

A large carriage rumbled up behind them, and a booming, "What's the meaning of this?!" rattled Katie's teeth. Another uniformed man stepped down from the driver's seat and strode toward her. Each step of his gigantic boots sent a small tremor through the horses, and when stepped fully into the torchlight Katie couldn't hold back a gasp. This man, a soldier judging by his imposing red and black armor, was easily the biggest person she'd ever met. His pointed ears grazed the lowest branches of the overarching trees as he clomped up to her. Katie had to crane her head back to look him in his one eye.

The next few seconds passed in complete silence save for the crackle of the torches and the panting horses. Katie didn't know whether to greet this person, ask him for help, or simply compliment him on his impressive sideburns. His eye roved over her once, then he turned to his men and ordered, "Get the boy out here."

Two soldiers opened the carriage door and dragged another, smaller, person out. He struggled against their grip until one of them punched him in the stomach and he doubled over. The giant waited until he'd been led over before asking, "Is this the one?"

The hunched figure looked up through a curtain of shaggy black hair.

"Keith?!" Katie yelped, rendered frozen by her twin urges to spring forward and stumble back. Because this _was_ Keith, no doubt about it. Those eyes were the same shape as she remembered, along with his nose and jaw. He was wearing his favorite black shirt, and Katie could see the bulge where he'd hidden his new knife. This was Keith... but Keith hadn't had purple skin the last time she'd seen him. A dark stripe ran up both lavender cheeks, adding a wildness to him Katie had seen only in his brash temperament.  

Keith stared back, and while his eyes were the same color as before, his pupils had become slanted and catlike, just like the men surrounding them. They were wide, frightened, and trying desperately to tell her something she couldn't understand. He hadn't answered the other man's question, but Katie's reaction was answer enough.

More men grabbed Katie's arms. She twisted and bit one of the hands holding her, earning a sharp cuff for her efforts.

"Don't be stupid, girl. I'll just take the candle and you and your friend can go," the giant rumbled.

Katie stared at him, then at Keith. "Candle?"

"Don't feign ignorance. You were traveling by candle, we saw him fall off," he jerked a thumb at Keith. "I need it, so cooperate or-"

"We used it up!" Katie blurted out. This brute couldn't take the candle, Lance needed it to get home before some crazy witch ate his heart! "We only had a little bit left, we ran out."

A murderous scowl twisted the giant's features and one hand twitched toward his- oh gods, was that a sword?!

"But I know where you can get one!" she squeaked. The hand stilled. "There's a merchant, traveling ahead," she pointed down the road, in the direction they needed to be going. "My father knows him, that's who we got the bubbling-"

"Babylon," Keith whispered.

"-Babylon candle from. He's always traveling down this road this time of the year. If we hurry, we might catch him before- before-..." Katie stuttered to a halt, she couldn't think of anything more to say. The giant glared at her long and hard, and she struggled not to squirm under his gaze. They had to get going, she needed to find Lance.

"If we can't find this merchant friend of yours by next sunset, I'll see to your execution myself," the giant growled. "Let's move out, double time!"

A chorus of "Yes, Warlord Ranveig!" from the other soldiers, and Keith and Katie were being shoved back into the carriage. The door slammed shut behind them and they barely had time to find the seats in near total darkness before the carriage lurched forward. Keith's grip on Katie's shoulder was so familiar, so comforting, she flung her arms around his waist.

"What happened to you?" she asked. She felt Keith shrug.

"I don't know. One minute I was traveling with you, the next I'd crashed into the trees. When I woke up, Ranveig's men had found me. I think the only reason they didn't kill me on the spot was that I looked like- ...I'm Galra. They wanted the candle."

A dim ochre light shone in the darkness, and Katie realized with a start that it was emanating from Keith's eyes. They cast slanting shadows on his features and glinted off his sharp canines. She swallowed and tried to refocus. "Why?"

Another shrug. "They're looking for something. A flame? I don't know, just that Ranveig wants it bad." He paused and lowered his voice even further until Katie could barely hear it over the creaking of the wheels. "Is it really...?"

Katie guided one of his hands to the lump in her pocket. He blew out a long breath. "So we just need some flint, then we can-"

"No, Keith, wait. Lance- Someone else needs this more."

"What?"

"Let me explain."

Thunder rumbled overhead, further covering their whispered conversation.

* * *

 

The rain started almost as soon as Blue and Lance had wandered out of the protection of the woods. It was the heavy, persistent, droning type of rain that promised to last for hours. They were soaked in a matter of minutes, and by the time the crossroads were reached Lance had developed a continual shudder.

He pushed back his bangs and looked at the inn. It seemed very welcoming, and if he played his cards right he might be able to stay the night even though he had no money.

Blue halted a few steps from the inn yard. Her ears flattened and she snorted twice. When Lance dismounted she let out a shrill neigh, lurching forward to block his path.

"Blue, stop it. We both need some shelter and this is-" Lance broke off to sneeze, his shoulders curling in on themselves. He wiped his nose and dodged around the distressed unicorn, limping towards the door and pounding the lion's head knocker. He barely had time to knock a second time before a blurry face appeared in the small window. Strange golden eyes met his, the mouth forming a surprised "Oh!", and the door opened. A flood of heat and wonderful smells assaulted Lance, and he allowed himself to be pulled inside.

His rescuer was flitting around him, tsking all the while. "You poor boy, out there in that horrid rain for who knows how long," she fretted. Lance blinked at her, wearily taking in the Fey's greying hair and homespun dress before another Fey woman appeared at his side with a blanket. This one was much younger, and she kept her face down while she wrapped the soft quilt around his shoulders. The older woman guided him into the nearest chair and he nearly wept as the pressure on his ankle lessened.

"We have plenty of warm food and we can draw a hot bath for you if you'll wait a tick," the woman continued, pointing toward the kitchens in a silent command. The girl glanced at him, once, before leaving.

Lance opened his mouth to explain his situation but ended up coughing instead. The older woman cooed and placed a cool hand on his forehead. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I don't have any money, and my friend-" Blue's whinny was loud enough to be heard from inside. The innkeeper bustled to the door again and opened it for a better look. Lance saw her eyes widen but sneezed right after; he missed the hate-filled glare she shot at the unicorn.

"Rolo! Take it to the stables, please!" she shouted and closed the door with an air of finality. "Don't worry about money, dear. You've obviously been through a lot." She gestured to his ragged clothes, and Lance was just self-conscious enough to blush at his unkempt appearance. He really must look a sight.

"Besides, you've already paid enough. Unicorns bring good luck, don't they?"

Had Lance been less tired, he might have thought her voice was too syrupy, her smile too on edge. As it was, he relaxed into his chair and smiled. "Thank you so much, Madam...?"

The woman's face went blank for a moment. Shaking her head slightly, she answered, "Oh, please, call me Honerva."

The maid returned with a steaming bowl of broth and placed it before Lance. He ate with gusto, too fixated on the food to notice the innkeeper staring at him the whole time.

Once he'd finished, Honerva guided him upstairs to his bath. She ended up supporting most of his weight, his ankle refused to take much more abuse. Leaving him to bathe in private and promising to bring something for his ankle, Lance sank into the warm water. Something had been added to the water, it smelled heavenly, and the fumes relaxed every muscle in his body.

Half an hour later, just as the bath started to turn tepid, a gentle knock on the door roused him from his stupor. The maid entered, her eyes averted as she set a plush bathrobe on a nearby stool and held out a towel. Lance carefully stepped out of the tub and wrapped the towel around his waist. "Thanks."

"You should leave. Now."

Lance's head shot up. She'd said it so quietly he couldn't be sure he'd heard her right. "What?"

"You-"

"Nyma, come downstairs!" Honerva shouted from below.

The girl, Nyma, flinched so violently Lance though she might jump out of her skin. She turned and fled without another word, leaving him confused and shivering now that he was out of the bath. He toweled off and put on the bathrobe.

Honerva entered with a jar of salve in hand and directed him to sit on the stool. Lance did so, but not before regarding her with a fresh eye. She seemed harmless enough, even if her eyes were far too bright. Any doubts fled as soon as she spread the salve over his ankle. The relief was instantaneous. There had to be strong magic in that medicine, and he wondered if Honerva had made it herself. She didn't seem to be a common Fey.

She finished, and he rolled experimentally. It looked as good as new, all the bruises and swelling had faded back into smooth, dark skin. "That's amazing!" he gasped, standing and putting some weight on it. There wasn't the slightest twinge of pain. His unbidden joy manifested itself in a pearly blue haze of light that surrounded him.

Honerva rose and clasped her hands behind her back, looking thoroughly satisfied. "People say I have a healer's hands. Now, I'll show you to your room, and if you'd like I'll make a herbal tea guaranteed to send you into a long, deep sleep."

Lance grinned sheepishly. "I do have trouble sleeping at night."

His bed was large and as soft as a cloud, and Honerva tucked him in before leaving to make his tea. He'd almost drifted off, no tea needed, when someone pounded on the door downstairs.

* * *

 

Haggar scowled, her hand frozen over the teacup. She snapped her fingers at Nyma, making the stupid girl jump back in terror. "Get the door!" she hissed. Nyma ran to the door and opened it, stepping aside as a huge Galra entered.

Dammit, Ranveig.

"My men and I require accommodation for the night," he barked, absolute in his confidence that everything would be done as he commanded it. She ought to wring his neck right now, but it would seem suspicious to the star if she didn't act out her part and see to the oaf's needs first. Where was Sendak? He'd disappeared once the rain started.

Haggar swept up to him with a low curtsy. "Of course, sir. Perhaps I could interest you in a glass of wine?" Wine with a touch of poison, but he didn't need to know that.

Ranveig shook his head, not even sparing her a second glance. Figures, he _would_ be too dumb not to recognize her. "None for me, but my men in the stables might appreciate it." He said it more as an order than a suggestion.

"Very well. Nyma, get the men some wine from the green bottle. The one in the back of the pantry. Only the best for the Warlord of Daizabaal and his men," Haggar simpered.

A pattering on the stairs alerted her to the star's presence. His glow had faded, and he hovered at the foot of the stairs. Ranveig's presence obviously made him nervous. "Go back upstairs, dear, I'll be there with your tea in just a tick," she urged.

The star shook his head. "I want to check on my friend if you don't mind."

Ugh. Haggar forced her smile to become more genial than ever. "Of course, but the stables are rather busy at the moment. Wait a few minutes until the other guests have taken care of their horses, and I'll find you some shoes." The star glanced at his bare feet and nodded slowly.

Haggar was forced to leave Ranveig and the star where they were and go conjure up some damn shoes.

* * *

 

Katie led the last horse into its stall. Ranveig's men had left her and Keith to take care of all their horses, preferring to wait by the carriage, and the jittery stable boy obviously had no idea what he was doing so he kept to himself to one corner.

"This could be our chance," Keith murmured in her ear. "It's raining hard, if we sneak out the back..."

Katie shook her head. "We have to make sure Lance isn't here first."

The door opened and a maid walked in with two goblets on a tray. "Wine?" she asked, holding it out to them.

Keith and Katie accepted with grateful nods. The maid ignored them and made a beeline for the stable boy.

Katie looked at her cup. The wine was dark, almost black. She'd had wine before, but it had always been watered down. A few sips couldn't hurt.

One of the stable doors unlocked itself just as she raised the cup to her lips, and an honest to goodness _unicorn_ sprang out of it like a jack-in-the-box. It barreled past them, knocking them to the ground and sending their cups flying, and leaped out of open double doors.

"What the hell?" Keith muttered. The maid and the stable boy hid in an empty stall.

* * *

 

Ranveig drummed his fingers against the table. So far the service had been sorely lacking. The lady of the inn had disappeared without procuring any food for him, leaving him in the company of some common Fey who seemed ready to run at the slightest provocation.

Outside, a horse bellowed and the boy ran to the window. Something silver and black gleamed against his throat in the warm firelight. Ranveig squinted.

"What's that?" he demanded.

The boy jumped and spun around to face him. "What?" he replied, nervous and confused. Ranveig could see the necklace clearly now. He lurched to his feet and kicked the table away.

"Give me the Flame!" he roared, drawing his sword. The boy ran for the door.

Ranveig didn't have the chance to take a single step after him. Sendak sprang from his hiding place under the stairs, dagger in hand, and carved a bloody smile into Ranveig's throat. "The Flame is mine," Sendak whispered in his ear.

The star screamed.

* * *

 

"What the hell?!" Keith repeated, his tone laced with fear. Scattered around the innyard were the dead bodies of Ranveig's men, most of them still clutching their winecups. The unicorn was standing by the door and pawing at the ground. It let out a frustrated bellow and reared onto its hind legs.

Katie tugged Keith's arm. "Come on!"

They slid and slipped across the muddy yard. Katie reached the door first and yanked it open, coming face to face with a terrified Lance. Behind him, a strange Galra stood over Ranveig's twitching body. Keith grabbed hold of both of them and pulled them out of the way just in time. The unicorn charged into the building and reared, it's sharp hooves knocking the Galra back and sending him reeling into a table. Keith and Katie pulled Lance along until they reached the road.

"We need to go!" Katie yelled. Lance was clutching her, his eyes glassy with shock. They needed to find somewhere safe, somewhere far away from here.

Keith looked around at the miles and miles of exposed grassland. "Where?"

The unicorn whinned her warning too late. A jet of purple fire encircled all three of them. The flames paid no heed to the rain, growing taller and fiercer until they encaged them. Katie felt the intense heat beginning to burn her clothes and singe her hair.

The witch stepped into the circle untouched, her face set in a disappointed frown. The unicorn lunged at her but was repelled by the fire.

"The burning heart of a star at peace is so much better than your pitiful little heart. Still, better than no heart at all." the witch sighed, one hand clutching the dagger Katie had seen so vividly in her dream. She did her best to shield Lance with her own body.

This couldn't be it. There had to be a way to escape.

Katie's hand flew to her pocket. "Hold me tight and think of home!" she yelled, hoping Lance and Keith would hear her over the pounding rain and crackling blaze. She plunged her hand into the fire. The candle ignited instantly.

The last thing she heard before shooting into the sky was the witch's furious screech.


	6. A Ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Set your course by the stars, not by the lights of every passing ship.” - Omar N. Bradley

Up, up, up. Unlike her first experience traveling by candlelight, where they’d mostly been traveling in a horizontal sort of direction, this trip was distinctly vertical in nature. It was also a much shorter trip than she’d expected. Katie had less than a second to register her new surroundings (grey and cold) before the candle flickered out and she fell against something soft.

Staggering to her feet and struggling to maintain her balance on the squishy, wet surface, she looked around. The rain battered her body with a ferocity she’d never felt from a storm before. The wind was a howling beast that whipped her long hair into a frenzy and deafened her to nearly everything. To her left and right, Keith and Lance were slowly gathering their wits.

They were standing on a sea of grey fog, surrounded by walls of the stuff that hurtled by on the wind. The “ground” beneath her shifted, and she had to back up to keep from falling through a hole that had formed underneath her feet. She peered into the gap and barely caught a glimpse of what looked like an ocean far below before it closed itself up.

Were they…?

A crack of lightning not two hundred yards away sent the three of them reeling. Katie covered her ears, but the booming thunder that followed was overpowering. She ended up falling back onto the… onto the cloud. They were standing on a cloud and the closest thing to solid ground was ten miles below them.

…How?!

“What happened?!” she yelled once her ears stopped ringing. Keith looked as bewildered as she felt. Lance, on the other hand, looked annoyed.

“What do you think happened?” he retorted. “‘Think of home’? That was a _great_ plan! You thought of your home and I thought of my home and now we’re somewhere in the middle!”

Katie gaped at the stormy sky around them. Think of home. She glanced at her hand, it was covered in black candle wax and second-degree burns.

She glared at Lance. “You idiot! Why did you think of your home?”

Lance reared back, more furious than she’d ever seen him _but she didn’t care._

“Uh, guys?” Keith yelled.

“If you wanted me to think of _your_ home you should have said so!”

“Guys!”

Katie shook her head in disbelief. “A crazy witch wants to cut out your heart and you need specific instructions?!”

“Katie!”

“Perhaps you’d like it in writing? Or a diagram maybe?”

“Look out!”

Katie and Lance were taken completely by surprise when a giant net fell over them.

* * *

 

Sendak staggered out of the inn just in time to be blinded by a flash of light. Between the colors dancing before his eyes and the pounding rain, it was hard to see, but he managed to make out the shadowy silhouettes of the witch and the unicorn. A quick charge from the unicorn sent Haggar reeling. Something flew into the air, glinting dully in the feeble light, before landing in the mud with a plop. The unicorn crushed it with its sharp hooves before galloping down the road. Haggar screamed and threw purple fireballs that fizzled out in the pouring rain long before they reached their target.

“Where is the boy?” Sendak demanded, still clutching his head.

Haggar whirled on him. Her hair had fallen out of its matronly bun and hung in white, draggled curtains around her face. Her red cheek markings had elongated down to her chin, and wrinkles had settled in at her brow and jaw. Her eyes burned with malice, glowing so brightly they nearly overwhelmed her other features.

She ignored his question and rushed to the spot where the unicorn had trampled the muddy soil. A shrill scream followed, so loud and long that it shook her whole body. Sendak wandered over and inspected the ground. The shattered bits of Haggar’s obsidian knife were strewn over the inn yard.

“The boy, where is he?” he repeated. Haggar glared up at him, still panting. “He has my stone,” he continued, undeterred by her rage.

The witch stilled for a moment. “Ah, that necklace…” This new information seemed to calm her, or at the very least focus her energy, for she took a minute to change her peasant dress back into her robes and arrange her hair a bit.

Her eyes landed on Ranveig’s large, empty carriage and she nodded to herself. “Perfect. Now, where are…? Nevermind.” She held out her hands and a few wisps of violet mist wafted to the empty harnesses in front of the carriage, taking on the appearances of four spectral horses as they settled.

“Get in. The star is a long way off by now.”

* * *

 

Katie’s face was smushed against Keith’s shoulder so she couldn’t see what was happening. All she could tell was that the net was dragging them up at an alarming speed. Her stomach flipped when the dragging sensation stopped and gravity took over. It was a short fall but it hurt nonetheless when they landed on what felt like a wooden floor.

Keith scrambled to sit up and Katie could finally look around.

They… seemed to be on the deck of a sailing ship. A ship that was floating on the clouds. Huh.

While that was mindboggling in its own right (Katie had so many questions) the ring of men surrounding them took precedence. All of them wore heavy rain slickers with deep hoods and goggles that concealed their faces. Each one of them carried a sword and pistol in the belts, and judging by their harsh laughter they weren’t exactly friendly.

“What do we do?” Keith whispered, trying to reach for his knife. He was having some trouble untangling his arms from the net.

She felt Lance shiver and lean closer when one of the men stepped forward, his hand firmly on the hilt of his sword. “Katie, I’m sorry,” he whimpered.

The man leaned down and pushed back his goggles for a better look. He seemed young, maybe even their age, with broad features, dark eyes, and an orange bandana wrapped around his forehead. He squinted at them suspiciously before yelling over his shoulder, “Get the Captain!”

The men laughed even louder.

A tall, thin figure swept through the crowd. This man’s face was also hidden, save for a magnificent ginger mustache.

“What do you think, Cap'n, are they Lightning Marshalls?” a member of the crew asked.

The man shook his head. “They don’t look like Marshalls to me.”

“Why else would anyone be up here in the middle of a storm?” another crewman piped up.

The Captain swiveled around to look at him. “Maybe for the same godforsaken reason we are!” he snapped. The crew all took a step back, and Katie cringed. Whoever this man was, he was a fearsome specimen.

“Well, let’s give them a night in the brig to think over their situation,” he continued, turning his back on them. “Hunk, get these dogs back to work!”

Bandana Boy saluted and started yelling at the crew. “You heard the Captain! Get these three to the brig! We’ve got lightning to catch!”

A multitude of hands reached out and grabbed Katie. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Lance and Keith in the same predicament. She kicked and struggled until one of the men grabbed her hair and yanked so hard she saw stars.

“Let her go!” Keith yelled, slashing at the men holding him with his knife. Two of them yelped and let go, clutching their arms.

The Captain swooped in and twisted Keith’s wrist until he had to let go of the knife. It fell neatly into the Captain’s palm despite the intense rocking of the ship. “None of that, my lad,” the Captain muttered.

Lightning flashed right next to the ship, sending all of Katie’s hair on end. She could see a massive contraption attached to each side of the ship, almost fin-like, except these fins were made from metal beams and thick wire rather than scales and webbing. The crackling electricity wrapped itself around the fins and disappeared deep into the belly of the ship.

 _They’re catching lightning_ , she realized, allowing herself to be shoved below deck. They’d fallen into the hands of lightning pirates.

* * *

 

_“Will you not hold him at least once?”  
_

_No. Never. She’d spent too much time here. The king had already taken her heart, and she’d given up her soul long ago. He would not entrap her body with the tiny, squirming bundle he cradled so gently in his arms._

Haggar awoke with a start. Sendak sat across from her in the carriage, his head bowed in slumber. She looked down at her arms, held out as if to-

No. Never.

She needed to plan ahead. The star was still airborne, which meant he’d found refuge on one of the many sky vessels that flew above Daizabaal. That… severely complicated things. Not to mention, her dagger was gone. She’d need to bring the star back to her palace and finish the deed there.

Damn that unicorn! Damn Ranveig! And damn that peasant girl to the bottomless pits! What was a human child doing with a Babylon candle of all things?!

No matter. She’d just add it to the list of questions she planned on torturing out of the girl.

* * *

 

“Try moving your arm this way- OW! No, the _other way!_ ”

“Sorry!” Keith hissed, trying to wiggle out of the tight ropes they’d been bound with without breaking Katie’s arm. The two had been tied back to back, with nothing but the bare floor to sit on. Katie looked around the brig again in the hopes of finding something sharp. The small room was barren save for a few crates. There was a small window, big enough to climb out of, but that had been fastened shut.

Lance had been tied to a wall hook on the other side of the room, his arms stretched uncomfortably high over his head. An hour or so of tugging at his bonds had resulted in rubbing his wrists raw and not much else. He watched their attempts with a hopeless expression.

“They’re going to kill us, aren’t they?” he asked.

Katie opened her mouth to reassure him, but the words died before they reached her lips. Outside the window, she could hear the storm starting to blow itself out. After a moment she shrugged and admitted, “I don’t know.”

“It’s funny, I-I used to watch people go on adventures,” Lance continued. “I envied them.”

Keith yanked even harder on the ropes and Katie winced. “You ever hear the saying, 'Be careful what you wish for’?” Keith asked wryly.

Lance’s bottom lip started to wobble. “So, what, it serves me right to have my heart cut out, or get shot by pirates or-?”

Katie elbowed Keith as hard as she could. “No, no! That’s not what he meant!” she soothed because Lance looked seconds away from snapping. His eyes were beginning to glaze over and he was shaking. It probably didn’t help that he only had a thin bathrobe to keep him warm in the cold brig.

“C'mon, scoot,” she ordered, wiggling towards Lance. Keith caught on and they scooted over until Katie could tuck her thin legs underneath Lance's and lean against his side.

“I’m sorry, Lance,” Keith said after a minute or so of silence. “If anything, I admire your dreaming. A village boy like me, I never could have imagined an adventure this big.”

Katie nodded in agreement. “We just wanted to find our families and bring them home.”

“And instead you got me,” Lance joked. His voice still trembled, but he managed a small smile. He locked eyes with Katie, and for a moment they glowed a vibrant blue. “Thank you for saving my life.”

Blushing a bit, Katie nudged his knee. “Don’t be silly, I couldn’t just let that witch get you.”

“I’m pretty sure the unicorn did most of the work,” Keith teased. Katie elbowed him again and he shoved back.

Lance bit his lip. “Do you think she hurt Blue?”

“Who?”

“The unicorn.”

“You named a unicorn 'Blue’?”

“Your name is Keith! What kind of Galra name is that?”

“I didn’t know I was Galra until two days ago!”

* * *

 

“Well, well…”

Lotor leaned against the doorframe, loving the way the predawn light illuminated Ranveig’s corpse. Someone had done an excellent job of slitting his throat. One cut, right through both carotid arteries; Ranveig had died before he hit the floor.

“Four down, one to go!” Ezor chirped, hopping over the body to search the upper floor.

Lotor said nothing, merely taking in his surroundings. Aside from signs of a scuffle near the staircase (and the pile of dead bodies outside), this seemed to be a perfectly respectable and well-established inn.

Which was odd, since he’d passed this crossroad not two weeks ago and the inn hadn’t existed then.

Ezor slid down the banister, pausing at the bottom to rifle through Ranveig’s clothes, and pouted. “No sign of the stone.”

Axca and Narti join Lotor by the doorway. “None of the men outside had it either,” Axca reported.

The whole scenario was far too mysterious for Lotor’s liking. He shouldered past his generals and inspected the swampy ground. There were plenty of footprints, but only a few had actually entered the main building. Carriage tracks could be clearly seen pulling into the yard with at least four horses, but it had left seemingly under its own power. Strangest of all was the cloven-shaped hoofprints that ran rampant all over the area before heading off in the direction of the forest.

He knelt down and carefully wiped the mud off of an obsidian shard. Dozens of similar pieces were scattered about.

“There’s dark magic in all of this,” he said, straightening and holding out his find for the others to see. “Everyone, be on your guard.”

A shrill scream had them drawing their swords and rushing to the stables.

Zethrid had two Fey cornered, her large blunderbuss pointed directly at them. “I found them cowering in here,” she said, lowering her gun and shuffling over so Lotor could inspect them.

Lotor placed the tip of his sword under the man’s throat. “Where is my stone?” he hissed.

“I d-d-don’t know!” the Fey whimpered. “I just-just know that Sendak was helping her so he could get it-”

“Helping whom?”

The man fell silent, his face ashen. The girl spoke up. “Someone you should pray you never meet,” she whispered. “A witch.”

“Well, that explains it,” Ezor whispered to Narti.

Lotor wasn’t done. “What did the witch want?”

“A boy- no, a star,” the girl answered. “She wanted to…” The girl had to pause for a moment to gag, “Ugh, to cut out his heart and… I’m gonna be sick-”

“Eat it,” Lotor breathed. He let the tip of his sword lower to the hay-strewn floor. The sheer magnitude of this revelation would have sent a lesser man staggering. He turned to his generals, his eyes blazing with unholy fire. “Do you realize what this means?” he asked. The four of them shook their heads.

“Everlasting life. I could be king forever.”

* * *

 

Hunk was up at the crack of dawn. Most of the crew was divided into a day shift and a night shift (storms appeared at any time, after all), but the first mate/cook of the _Castle of Lions_ had no such luxury.

He whistled softly to himself as he gathered the ingredients for biscuits. The morning shift would be eager for breakfast as soon as they woke up, they had a long day ahead of them. Bii-Boh-Bi predicted a doozy of a storm would break along the coast in a matter of hours, and his arthritic knee was never wrong.

While the biscuits were in the oven, he did his rounds, making sure everything above and below deck was ship shape. He finished by quietly knocking on Captain Smythe’s cabin door, his daily signal that it was time to get up. Hunk waited until he heard the Captain’s faint curses and grumblings before heading for the brig.

He didn’t quite know what to make of the prisoners. They’d appeared out of thin air, and judging by their reactions they’d been as surprised as the crew. Who were they? How had they ended up stranded in the clouds?

Hunk peered through the keyhole and barely suppressed a soft “d'aww!” The three of them were huddled together against the wall. The girl’s cheek squished against the darker boy’s knee, and the black-haired boy leaning heavily on the girl’s curved back. Every so often one of them would shiver and Hunk _really_ wanted to grab them blankets.

Alas, the Captain had the keys to the brig, and Hunk needed to hurry or the biscuits would burn.

He made it back to the kitchen just in time. While the biscuits cooled he whipped up a pot of gravy, something the dayshift heartily appreciated when they straggled in. Hunk had his hands busy for a full twenty minutes making sure everyone was well fed. It wasn’t until one of the crewmen yelled, “Cap'n’s gone to the brig!” that he remembered the prisoners again.

Hunk shook a serving spoon at the men. “That’s his business. There’s another storm brewing, so all hands on-”

Everyone ignored him and ran for the brig.

Muttering obscenities, Hunk followed them. He shoved his way through the men clogging the narrow hallway and pressed his ear to the door. The Captain could be heard pacing the small room. The footsteps paused, and the muffled _bang_ of the brig window opening made the men around him chuckle. They knew what would happen next.

One of the powder monkeys leaned down to look through the keyhole. “Ohohoho, Cap'n doesn’t look too happy!”

“Shut up, Remdax! We can’t hear!”

“All of you shut it!” Hunk hissed, plugging the ear that wasn’t against the door to better hear what was going on inside.

“-you tell me who you are and why you’re up here,” the Captain was saying. “Or I’ll start snapping your fingers one by one like dry twigs!” The men outside cackled for a few seconds before shushing each other.

“Don’t you even think-” one of the boys (probably the one who’d been waving that knife around) growled before the Captain interrupted.

“Talk back to me again and I’ll feed your tongue to the dogs, you insolent pup!” he roared. “We’re not overly fond of your kind as it is!” The crew yelled in agreement. All of them had been driven to piracy in one way or another thanks to the Galra King’s harsh rule.

There was a short pause before the girl spoke up.“Sir, I’m Katherine Holt. These are my friends Keith and Lance. Our families are merchants-”

“Do not lie to me, chit! I’m angry enough as it is!”

“I’m not-”

“I suppose you take me for a fool? You and your Galra friend could be merchants for all I care, but this one-” A frightened gasp from the other boy. “Look at his hands. He’s never worked a day in his pitifully short life. Let me guess, you’re from a rich family? Rich enough to make it worth my while to keep you in one piece?”

“He’s not-!”

“As for you two, now, there are plenty of things we could do. A hanging’s always good for morale. Perhaps we’ll watch you dance the gallows jig!” The crew whooped in excitement. “Or perhaps I’ll toss you over the side and have done with it.” A cacophony of disappointed _awww’s._

Hunk shushed all of them again and pushed Remdax away so he could look inside. The Captain was standing with his back to the door, his lean frame and fiery ginger hair illuminated by the sunlight streaming in through the open window. One of his hands traced the hilt of his belt knife. The darker boy was cringing against the girl, who licked her lips and cleared her throat nervously.

“Please, we’re just trying to get back to our home in Wall-”

“What was that?” the Captain asked, his voice quiet.

The crew fell silent. There was a terrifying, fatal difference between the Captain’s raging bravado and his ice-cold fury. The girl sensed the change too, and her voice rose to a squeak. “I- We’re going home to Wall-”

“THAT’S ONE LIE TOO MANY, GIRL!”

The Captain lunged forward and grabbed the girl’s collar, pulling her up with so much force that the raven-haired boy was dragged to his feet as well. They both struggled, tied up as they were, against the Captain’s efforts to drag them to the window.

“YOU THINK YOU CAN WALTZ ONTO MY SHIP AND NOT PAY THE CONSEQUENCES?!”

Hunk jerked away from the door and motioned for the crew to go up to the main deck. “He’s going to- go! Hurry!”

There was a mad scramble as the men rushed up the stairs and ran to the side of the ship.

“BIG MISTAKE, MISS HOLT, AND THE LAST ONE YOU’LL EVER MAKE!”

The men leaned over the side and peered down. Two small, human-shaped figures were hurtling toward the ground miles below. The Captain stuck his head out of the window he’d just thrown them from and watched until they disappeared beneath the clouds. Nodding to himself, he twisted his head up to glare at the crew. They flinched and jumped back from the side.

Not a minute later the Captain reappeared on deck with the last prisoner in tow. The boy screamed and thrashed against his hold, tears streaming down his face.

“No! No! You brute! You pig! Let me go!” he yelled, trying to break free.

The Captain ignored his cries and dragged him towards his quarters. “This brat will fetch us a fine price, I’m keeping him in my quarters for now,” he told Hunk. “Get as much lightning as you can from the next storm, then make for the swap meet.” Hunk nodded and opened the Captain’s door for him so he could use both hands to push the sobbing boy inside. The door slammed shut behind them.

Hunk took a second to retie his bandana. Between cooking and taking care of the captain and crew, his work was never done.

* * *

 

“Check again!” Haggar insisted, gripping the edges of the small mirror.

The trembling druid reflected in it bowed as low as he could. “Mistress, the star is still airborne. We know it’s heading for the coast, but that is all.”

Another druid slid into view and whispered into the first druid’s ear. He jerked and nodded. “Mistress, you are not the only one in pursuit of the star!”

Haggar sat up a bit straighter, her thin lips curling. “Who is it? A witch? A warlock?”

“A Galra general, and he’s gaining ground.”

Sendak’s eyes widened and he frowned in thoughtful contemplation. Haggar set the mirror down and waved one hand in a whipping motion. Outside, the ghostly horses sped up.

“Any idea who it is?” Haggar asked, settling back into her seat.

Sendak shrugged. “It could be anyone lucky enough to stumble across the information. Though, if I had to guess…” He shook his head. “That slippery Bas-.”

Haggar waved the matter away. “It’s of no real importance. We’ll deal with it if necessary.”

* * *

 

The Captain’s quarters were large and sumptuous. One wall was made entirely of windows, giving the Captain an unimpeded view of the surrounding cloudbanks. There was a large mahogany desk littered with papers and pouches of gold and jewels. Two large couches covered with soft pillows were arranged around a small piano in one corner.  A silk curtain covered another doorway that led off to the Captain’s bedroom.

Lance took all of it in at a glance, heart still racing even though his crying had ceased. The Captain released his tight grip on Lance’s arm and pulled out his knife. In a moment the ropes around Lance’s wrist were cut and he was free.

“Wait a tick,” the Captain said, cheerful as could be. He kicked aside one of the heavy rugs scattered around the room and revealed a trap door underneath it. A quick tug opened it, and he reached down to help first Katie and then Keith climb out of the secret passage they’d been hiding in. Lance ran to their side, and Katie gave him a tight hug.

“So,” The Captain sighed, leaning against his desk. “I think that went well. Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Captain Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, the most feared buccaneer in the skies, at your service.”


	7. A Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We are all of us stars, and we deserve to twinkle." - Marilyn Monroe

The Captain pointed to a small table and they all sat down. He clasped his hands together. "Now, tell me all about your human world. I want to hear absolutely everything!"

Katie held up a hand, shaking her head. "Hold on. First of all, I can't believe your crew fell for that-"

"And where on earth did you get those mannequins!" Lance interrupted, eyes wide. His heart was only now calming to a steadier rhythm.

Coran waved their surprise away. "Ha! It works every time. A dash of bargaining, a spoonful of trickery, a great heaping cup of intimidation, _et voila!_ It's the perfect recipe for a towering reputation without spilling a drop of blood. Have you tried washing blood out of a silk shirt? It's harder than wrangling a weblum."

Keith leaned back in his chair and pointed toward the cabin door. "Okay, but... how are we going to keep your crew from recognizing us? They think Katie and I are at the bottom of the ocean."

The Captain remained unconcerned. "It was rather stormy last night so none of the crew really got a good look at you. By the time I'm done with you two, your own mothers won't recognize you." He sprang to his feet. "Now, we've no time to waste. Chop, chop!"

Faintly amused, the trio followed suit. Coran grabbed one of the wall sconces near the piano and twisted it. Part of the wall slid back, revealing a hidden room stuffed with clothes of every shape, size, and color. There were feather boas, ball gowns, three-piece suits, boots, high heels, masks, cloaks, and capes. Katie barely had time to take in everything before Coran was piling clothes into her arms.

"It'll be so good to see you out of those dreary clothes," Coran hummed. "No offense, but they scream 'small town peasant', practically medieval." He grabbed a stylish red greatcoat and black shirt and handed it to Keith along with some black trousers. "Try this. I wore this outfit as a younger man. I hate throwing anything away, as soon as I do it comes back in fashion."

Coran stared a Lance for a long moment before selecting a beautiful blue silk shirt and white pants. "You lads can change in my room, and Miss Holt can change in here." He shooed Keith and Lance out, pulling a silk curtain behind them to give Katie more privacy. She stared at the outfit, still trying to process what exactly had happened.

She'd thought they were done for, honestly, when the Captain had dragged them towards the window. But instead of tossing them to the wind, he'd kicked open a trap door, untied them, and motioned for them to follow the secret passageway before throwing a pair of mannequins out the window. And all that while screaming bloody murder.

Katie wasn't quite sure why the Captain was helping them, but she wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. She couldn't repress a sigh of relief as she finally changed out of her damp clothes and into fresh, warm ones. Her outfit consisted of a loose green pirate shirt adorned with ruffles on the front and the cuffs, a pair of tan breeches, black boots, and a white sash she tied around her waist.

She ducked out of the dressing room just as Keith and Lance emerged in their new attire. All three of them could now reasonably pass for young buccaneers. Lance's mouth opened slightly when he saw her, his eyes roving up and down her slim frame. She couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Her bemusement was cut off by Coran tsking and gesturing to her (understandably) messy hair. He pulled a golden comb out of thin air and gestured for her to sit on the sofa. He took great care in detangling her long locks, chatting away as he did so.

"Now, like I said before, please tell me everything about your world." He chuckled at their curious expressions. "I'm not human, obviously-” He waggled his pointed ears, “-but I've loved hearing stories about them ever since I was a child. People always told me they were nothing but folklore, but I always knew they were true. As a boy I'd sneak away from the market while my grandfather did his deals and peek out over the Wall, dreaming of one day crossing and seeing it for myself."

Katie laughed and looked up. "So you were here looking over there?"

Coran nodded and returned her delighted smile. Katie proceeded to tell him everything that had happened to them the past few days, omitting the fact that Lance was a star (Lance shot her a grateful look), and only said they were being chased by bandits when they used the Babylon candle to escape. The Captain lapped up her story with evident relish.

Once Coran was done he pulled back and grabbed a small mirror. As he did so, Keith and Lance gasped. They were both looking at her in mingled horror and shock.

"What-?" Katie's question was cut off by Coran shoving the mirror in front of her face. She gasped as well.

Somehow, her hair had been cut. Her thick tresses now barely reached the tips of her ears and stuck out in wild points at the nape of her neck. "What did you-?" she demanded, looking around her for her shorn hair and finding nothing but the thick velvet cushions scattered around the couch.

The Captian shrugged apologetically and handed her a white bandana. "Part of the act, I'm afraid." He twirled the comb into the air. When he caught it, it had transformed into a pair of scissors which he pointed at Keith. "You both need new hairdos."

Keith gulp, one hand flying to his head. His black hair - dark purple now, actually - was already rather short, barely covering his temples and neck. He took Katie's place with some hesitance and allowed Coran to start snipping.

Lance helped Katie tie the bandana over her head and rearrange her unruly curls. "Why didn't you ever cross the Wall?" he asked.

Coran's smile was wistful, almost bitter. "I’ve always tried my best to fit in. I wanted to make old Pop-Pop proud. They called him the Ghostmaker, and everyone expected me to have a similar reputation as a ruthless marauder. When Pop-Pop died, I promised him I'd continue the family business and keep the _Castle of Lions_ afloat."

Katie's eyes roved over the room. Everything about it from the elegant crimson drapery to beautiful plush carpets conveyed a sense of grace and culture that would impress any class of nobility. It most certainly didn't fit the image of a rough and bawdy pirate captain.

Coran sighed and smiled at the three of them. "It's so nice to be able to confide in you charming young people. I've always been a fey of my own creation, but it's hard not being able to tell anyone. The pressure of maintaining my fearsome persona for the sake of the crew... ugh, I don't know. You're done," he added, grabbing the mirror to hand to Keith.

Lance burst out laughing.

Keith snatched the mirror from Coran, his eyebrows disappearing behind his now disorderly bangs. Despite Coran's constant clipping, Keith's hair had grown longer. It now reached the nape of his neck and curled over his shoulders.

"You've got a _mullet!_ " Lance wheezed, falling out of his chair and rolling on the floor. Keith scowled and folded his arms.

* * *

 

The _Castle of Lions_ reached the swap meet two hours later. It was little more than a large collection of shanties scattered around the top of a coastal cliffside, but its distance from the Galra capitol made it a popular destination for any trader wishing to perform under the counter transactions. Lightning, for instance, was a tempting commodity when heavy tariffs could be avoided.

Lance accompanied the Captain to a shop while the crew unloaded the lightning barrels. Coran had given him a cloak, and he was grateful the anonymity it provided as they edged through the crowds of black-market dealers and small-time thieves. Once in a while, someone would try to take a closer look at him, but a glare from the Captain sent them off on their own business.

Coran led them to a narrow alley and knocked twice on a dingy black door. A small sign was tacked to it, reading "Vince's Office". After a minute, Coran knocked again, louder, and a muffled voice from inside yelled, "Give us a minute!"

The door was eventually opened by a small purple fey with four arms. He adjusted his cap and looked over Coran's shoulder at the Lance and the crew. He waved them inside with some impatience, muttering, "Don't just stand there!"

Lance ducked into the small shop. Most of the floor space was taken up by stacks of crates. All of them were nondescript, all of them sealed, but when Lance leaned up against one something inside it growled.

"Oy, get away from that!" the fey, presumably Vince, snapped.

Lance scuttled away and joined Hunk's side. The first mate winked and leaned down to whisper in Lance's ear. "Don't worry, Vince is harmless."

Coran waited until all the barrels were carried inside before pulling the lid off one. Vince peered down at the trapped lightning crackling inside. "Hmm, doesn't look very fresh."

Without being asked, Hunk handed Coran a small canister. "Perhaps you'd like a sample of our wares?" the Captain surmised, unscrewing the cap and pointing the canister at one of the many bags hanging from the ceiling. A bolt of lightning zapped the bag and sent it tumbling to the ground in a charred heap. The scent of ozone now permeated the room. "I'd say it's still fresh."

Vince glared at the ruined bag. "Right, because Arusian pears aren't expensive."

"Name your best price, Vince," Coran continued, ignoring that last comment.  
"How much do you have?"

"10,000 bolts of the finest quality lightning."

"Well, it's not like this stuff's easy to store or transport, is it? Not to mention the Lightning Marshalls snooping around. So for 10,000 bolts let's say... 1500 GAC."

Without missing a beat, Coran turned to his crew. "Alright gentlemen, let's get all this back to the ship and prepare to sail." The men grumbled and started picking up the barrels.

Vince held out two of his hands. "Whoa, wait a minute, wait a minute. Hold on. How about 1600?"  

Coran rocked back on his heels. "I'm feeling generous today. I could see myself settling for 2000 GAC."

The trader barked out a laugh. "2000, are you crazy?" He looked to the crew. "Has he been sailing up where the air's too thin?"

The Captain clasped his hands behind his back. "You're being rather rude."

Vince immediately stopped giggling. "Right. Uhhhh... 1800."

"2000."

Vince frowned. "It isn't negotiation if you don't change your number. 1850 GAC."

"Did I hear 2000?"

"Not from me. Look, 1950 GAC, final offer!"

Coran grinned and held out his hand to shake on it. "Excellent, 1950 it is. With my sales tax that's... 2000."

Scowling, Vince pointed toward a corner in the back of the shop. Hunk and the men started stacking the barrels while Vince pulled Coran to one side. Lance was just close enough to hear their whispered conversation.

"Have you heard any rumors about a fallen star? Everyone's talking about it. You get your hands on one of them and you're set for life."

Icy dread writhed in Lance's stomach. The witch and her black knife still haunted him.

"A fallen star?" Coran's eyes flitted to Lance, and for a terrible moment, Lance was convinced he knew everything. Then the Captain shrugged and shook his head. Lance's tense shoulders sagged and he clutched at the black stone tucked underneath his shirt.

"No even a little whisper?" Vince urged. "Everyone's going on about it down in the market."

Coran snorted. "You mean the one by the Wall? Everyone knows those pond scum traders never have anything good worth gossiping about."

"Oh, Is that so?"

Both fey turned to regard two Galra women entering the shop. The taller one forced her way through the crates, the other following close behind. A quiet clanking drew Lance's attention to the smaller Galra's feet, one of which was wrapped in a thin silver chain.

"Speak of the devil," Coran muttered. "How are you doing, Trugg?"

Trugg scoffed and eyed the shop, her gaze sliding over Lance and settling on the barrels in the corner. "Up to the same sorry business as usual, I see."

"Yes, and I believe we're just about done. Pleasure doing business with you, Vince."

As the crew trudged outside, the smaller Galra looked Lance straight in the eye and he blinked. She looked just like-

Hunk nudged his elbow. "Let's go."

* * *

 

Much to the crew's surprise, two strangers were waiting for them on the main deck when they got back. A few of them drew their swords, but the Captain stepped in. "Stand down!" He wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulder. "This young buccaneer is Pidge Gunderson, my niece, and her friend Keith. They'll be journeying with us for a few weeks."

Katie gave the best roguish grin she could and winked. The crew cheered.

Hunk rolled his eyes. He still couldn't believe how much the Captain got away with sometimes.

* * *

 

After dinner, Coran led Keith away from the rest of the crew and handed him the knife he'd taken the night before. "I meant to give it back to you earlier," Coran admitted.

Keith clutched the knife. "Thank you," he croaked. He'd only been parted from it for a day, but...

Coran stroked his mustache. "Do you mind me asking where you got it?"

"It was my mother's."

"And she's Galra?"

Keith's heavy brows furrowed. "Yes?"

Nodding, Coran looked over his shoulder. The men were preoccupied with preparing for the next storm. "I've only ever heard stories about these blades. You see, most fey aren't happy with Daizabaal's current government. The former King... well, let's just say everyone's glad he's dead."

"What does this have to do with my knife?"

"I'm getting to that. There've been rumors that there's a secret organization of Galra defectors who are dedicated to overthrowing Zarkon's government and setting a just king on the throne. No one knows anything about them, other than that they all carry blades with glowing purple marks." He tapped the hilt, right over the purple crest.

Keith bit his lip. "But my mom was captured by a witch. How could she be part of a coup?"

"I don't know, my lad." Coran pointed to the north. "Rumors say this organization is located in the Rock Maze, but no one knows for certain."

He clapped Keith on the shoulder and left him to sort out his thoughts. Keith leaned against the railing, watching the last rays of the sun illuminate the crest into a purple flame.

This adventure had already become far more complicated than he imagined. There was no simple answer to their current situation, and he still had no idea where to look to find his mother... but maybe this Blade was a bigger clue than he'd thought.

* * *

 

Katie's second night on the ship was far more comfortable. Coran set up three small, cozy beds in his quarters, and she dropped off as soon as her bed hit the pillow. She slept all through the night, waking only to the first rays of dawn streaming in through the windows. Keith snored softly, still dead to the world, but Lance's bed was empty.

Right, he was nocturnal.

She found him by the wall of windows. He was staring at the sun as it peeked over the horizon. His lips moved as if speaking, but no sound came out.

"You're not supposed to look directly at the sun you know," Katie scolded, gently hip-checking him.

Lance smirked. "I think I'm a bit better at coping with bright light than you are." His smile faded and he turned away from the window. "I was just checking to see if I could talk to my sister. You know, since we're a lot closer up here."

"You're sis-" Katie glanced at the sun. "That- she- She's your sister?"

"One of them." Lance flopped onto the sofa. "We're still too far away. I couldn't hear her."

"I'm sorry." Katie's mouth twisted, it sounded so inadequate. "You, uh, you miss your family?"

Lance nodded and fiddled with one of the throw pillows.

"I get that. I miss my brother and my dad."

The pillow fell to the floor. "You're still looking for them."

Katie joined him on the sofa, letting her knee knock against his. "Yeah, but I'm closer to finding them now than I have been for the past year."

His grin returned full force. "You'll find them. I don't think there's anything you couldn't do, _Pidge_." He snickered. "Where did you come up with that anyway?"

Katie realized that up until that point she'd never seen Lance completely happy and relaxed. It was an intoxicating look on him. She swallowed and fought back a blush. "It's a nickname my brother gave me. Easier than trying to remember a fake name, right?"

"Sure thing, _Pidge_."

* * *

 

The next few weeks were the most exciting Lance had ever had in his whole millennia-spanning life. His home in the cosmos, while beautiful, was so _boring_. The monotonous sameness of their realm was what prompted his family to observe the planets below. They all had their favorite things to watch; some liked the great rainforests, others were enchanted by the vast oceans. Lance preferred... well, his siblings thought he had an eclectic taste. He grew to resent his fallen state less and less now that he was here amongst this life and change and _wonder_ and finally able to enjoy it.

There was always something to do. Hunk taught him the basics of cooking, navigating, and, after some initial hesitation, how to shoot a pistol. (As it turned out, Lance was something of a natural.) Even though he was technically a prisoner, the rest of the crew were friendly and answered all of his questions about sailing; he pretended not to notice when some of the men complained about the sudden disappearance of the evening star.

Katie was even more curious, though her inquiries leaned more towards the technical aspect of things. It frustrated her to no end when she asked how the ship floated in the air and the only answer she got was, "Magic." Lance quickly learned that a frustrated Pidge was an adorable Pidge. When he expressed this, pointing two fingers at her and winking slyly as he did so, she blushed and chased him around the main deck.

Their fourth night on board, they got to help collect lightning. It was an exhilarating night and a doozy of a storm. He could still feel the electricity pounding through his veins the next day.

Coran always had something to keep them busy. He seemed determined to turn them into cultured pirates by the end of their trip. When he wasn't teaching them how to play the piano or strategize in chess, he was instructing them in fencing. Keith was scarily good with a sword and managed to disarm Coran by the end of the first week.

“I’m not surprised, you practice like a maniac,” Lance sniffed from the sidelines, doing his best not to show just how impressed he was.

Keith sheath his sword. “I only figured one of us ought to know how to defend ourselves.” 

(Katie snickered, something Lance did not appreciate.)

More than anything though, Lance loved the evenings. That was when the stories were told. They'd curl up on the sofa, Katie in the middle with Lance and Keith on either side and listen to Coran tell about his travels. Whether it was battles with other pirates, fighting off the giant birds that hid in cloudbanks, or close calls with Lightning Marshalls, the Captain knew how to keep his small audience captivated. Keith or Katie would share stories of their own, more mundane in nature but just as entertaining for Lance. He soaked up their words and gestures, replayed them over and over during the lonely night when he wandered the deck and looked up at his family.

Katie had a knack for showing up when he got too lost in his own thoughts. She made a habit of waking up around midnight and joining him for an hour before he convinced her to go back to sleep. They talked about anything and everything, learning about each other's likes and dislikes, their past and present. Lance was surprised by how curious and knowledgeable Katie was about nearly everything, even the stars. He grew to love her vivacity and quick wit, even when it directed her sharp tongue in his direction.

("What will you do after you've found your family?"

"I... don't know. What will you do when you get back home?"

"...I don’t know.”)

There were also some nights, like tonight, Coran would pull out an old gramophone and give them dancing lessons. Keith and Katie were dancing together, and Lance was partnered with Coran. Dancing definitely wasn't Lance's strong suit, and he knew Coran was laughing at him from behind that outrageous mustache. Still, it was fun and Lance couldn't stop laughing.

Not until Coran leaned down and whispered, "Lance I know what you are."

Lance jerked away and the small blue glow surrounding his face vanished. He looked at Katie, wide-eyed and fearful. Keith had his head bent close to her and was whispering in her ear, staking a claim to her whole attention.

Coran pulled him back. "Have no fear, lad. No one on this vessel will harm you, but I'm sure you know there are many who would."

Lance nodded, his expression still pale and pinched.

"Your emotions give you away, my boy. You've been glowing more brightly every day."

Had he? His glow was intrinsically connected to the state of his heart, not his mind. Back home he'd never wondered whether he was shining or not because he'd been surrounded by the love and warmth of his family. It was different on Earth. He had to find his own happiness.

The Captain glanced over at Katie and raised an eyebrow. "Do you know why?"

Lance reddened a bit but played it off. "Of course I know why I'm glowing, I'm a star. What do stars do best?"

When he tripped over Coran's foot immediately afterward they both winced. "Certainly not the waltz," Coran muttered. He released Lance. "Alright, how about we switch?" he asked the other couple.

Katie locked eyes with Lance and crossed the room, grabbing his hand. On instinct, his other hand fell to her waist and they started to dance. She grinned up and him the whole time and they both giggled when a misstep was made. They stopped every few seconds to readjust, mumbling "Wait," or "Okay, now try" or "Yes, very good- no, wait-".

"Now I see why Coran wanted to switch," Katie teased after their tenth stumble.  
Lance huffed, but there was no hurt in it. Perhaps it was because Katie had been looking out for him ever since he fell, but all Lance loved the security felt in her arms. Already her touch against his hand and shoulder soothed his ruffled nerves. He'd endure a thousand stubbed toes if it meant he could feel like this forever.

Coran and Keith stared, somewhat awestruck, as the halo of light around Lance grew brighter and brighter with each step.

* * *

 

"Due west, you said? And you're certain he had a boy with dark skin and blue eyes with him?"

Vince shrugged and leaned his four elbows on his desk. The robed woman rolled her eyes and threw another handful of coins on the growing pile in front of him. "Yes," he said, transferring the pile into his purse.

The woman leaned in close, her yellow eyes forcing him to focus on her rather than the money. "You're absolutely sure? Do _not_ lie to me."

Vince held up his free hands. "I'd cross my heart if I had one."

Somewhat satisfied, the woman straightened and headed for the door. "You'd better be telling the truth you two-faced dog."

"I can get you one of those. Very useful for guarding the front and back door."

The woman paused. "What are the chances of getting a Babylon candle?"

"Eh, that's pretty slim." Vince scratched his chin. "Not many in the market. I can get you most anything else though. Potions, charms, collector's items of the rare and valuable sort. I once met a woman whose sister - ugly girl, had a face like a dog-"

"Oh, shut up."

The woman waved her hand and a get of purple light struck Vince's throat, knocking him back on his seat. He opened his mouth to yell at her, but his venomous threats only came out as angry squawks. Sparing the confused vendor half a smile, the witch ducked out of his shop.


	8. A Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Love knows not distance; it hath no continent; its eyes are for the stars." - Gilbert Parker

Hunk grabbed a rope and lashed it around his waist. "HOLD ON TIGHT, CAP'N'S AT THE HELM!"

The day crew gasped and scrambled to find something to hold on to. Some chanced a few fearful looks at the helm, where Captain Smythe was gripping the ship's wheel with a nonchalance that only frightened them further. The helmsman hovered nearby, trying to give some pointers on steering without incurring the Captain's wrath.

Lance, Katie, and Keith stood at the bow of the ship, just behind the bowsprit, and had the best view of the cove below. They screamed in delight at Coran sent the ship into a sharp dive, their feet lifting off the deck and hair whipping in their faces. The rest of the crew yelled as they were thrown across the deck. The Captain over-corrected and everyone stumbled into each other. The ship was skimming across the cove like a giant's pebble and it was obvious they'd crash into the shore at this rate. Coran waited until they'd almost run aground before pressing a button that released both anchors. The _Castle of Lions_ groaned as it was wrenched back. Keith and Lance clung to the rails, squishing Katie between them as the bow rose into the air before swinging back down into the water with a mighty crash. The resulting wave washed over most of the deck and everyone fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to be in its way.

Coran nodded and handed the wheel over to the terrified helmsman. As he descended the stairs to the main deck, he caught sight of the giggling, soaked trio, and a pang of regret disturbed his cavalier mood. The ship would be that much lonelier without them. He slipped below deck to prepare one last gift. 

* * *

 

The cove was surrounded by gently rolling hills, and from what Katie could see the surrounding landscape was completely deserted. Good. She helped Lance fasten his cloak and throw the hood over his head. 

Hunk handed each of them a pack filled with three day's rations while several men lowered the gangplank to the tiny harbor. Coran reappeared and handed Katie a metal cylinder wrapped in leather. She unscrewed the lid just enough for the electricity from the bottled lightning to send her hair on edge. Katie tucked it away in her pack and shook her head. "How can we repay you for your kindness?" 

Coran chuckled. "Don't mention it," Then he looked back at his waiting crew and added in a lowered voice. "No, seriously, don't mention it." He pointed to the winding road leading inland from the harbor. "There is your road, Wall is little more than a day's journey from here." 

He gave each of them a rib-cracking hug. Katie first, then Lance, and lastly Keith. He lingered a moment with Keith, whispering something that Katie couldn't make out. Keith's eyes widened a bit. 

They waved goodbye to everyone as they walked down the gangplank. Coran pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes. "Have a safe trip! It was a pleasure meeting you all!" 

(Hunk coughed and gestured towards the crew.) 

"Oh, right. Pidge, Make sure that brat's family pays you his money's worth!"

It took a few seconds for the crew to remember that, oh yeah, Lance was being held for ransom. They responded with a hearty, if belated, "ARGH!"

Katie and Lance muffled their giggles until they were well out of earshot. Keith refrained from joining in the fun, his brow still creased in thought. 

"What did Coran say to you?" Katie asked once they'd crested the ridge of the first hill. 

Keith shrugged and made a noncommittal grunt. "Nothing really. He said we should use the lightning to get Lance a Babylon Candle. Barter for it." 

Lance "awwed" and waved another goodbye to the now tiny ship. Katie raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but Keith wouldn't meet her gaze. She wasn't too worried, Keith never could keep a secret for long. 

* * *

 

"Again!" 

Zethrid grabbed Vince by the scruff of the neck and slammed his head into his desk, leaving behind a puddle of blood from his broken nose. Vince's whining came out as shrill squawks. 

Lotor grabbed him by the collar and forced him to stand up. He shoved his face closer until their noses were almost touching. "For the last time: Where. Is. The. Boy?" 

Vince gibbered, pointing in different directions with three of his hands. 

"The boy with the stone, where is he?" Lotor pulled out a dagger. 

" _Squaaa_!" 

"You dare mock me?" 

Shaking his head, Vince kept squawking and gesturing to a pile of boxes in the back of his shop. Lotor lost his patience. With a quick slash, Vince slumped to the floor and a new ghost joined the party. 

* * *

 

The sun was setting when they reached a fork in the road. A sign indicated that the eastern path led to Wall, and the western one led to the capitol. 

Katie saw a large willow not far from the road. "Why don't we camp here for the night?" Lance, who looked weary from half a day's worth of walking, nodded in agreement, while Keith shrugged in a distracted way. He'd been reticent ever since they'd left the ship, and Katie was growing sick of it. 

She waited until the blankets were rolled out and Lance was digging through his pack for supper, but Keith ended up beating her to the punch. 

"I'm not going to Wall with you." 

Lance looked at him in surprise, his mouth stuffed with one of Hunk's sandwiches. "Wha?" 

Katie caught his eye at last and nodded for him to continue. Keith pulled out his mother's knife and held it out to them, tapping the glowing sigil. "Coran told me about this... group, that my mother may have been a part of. They all have blades like this. He said their hideout was in the Rock Maze, and just now - well, this morning - he told me that road..." He pointed to the western path. "...would take me right by there." 

"Then we'll just make a detour, there's no need to split up. Right, Pidge?" Lance turned to Katie and found her deep in thought. 

Keith sighed. "I've already been over this in my mind. Sam and Matt Holt probably went to Wall first, like my dad, so Katie should start looking for them there. And I was serious about getting another Babylon candle for you, Lance. The longer you stay here-" 

"-the more danger you're in," Katie finished. Lance frowned and set down his half-eaten sandwich.

"But... splitting up like this? I don't like it," Lance muttered. A faint shudder ran through him, stopping only when Keith laid a hand on his shoulder. 

"It won't be for long. I'll join you guys at the Wall as soon as I can." 

Katie crawled to Keith’s side and hugged him, taking a moment to ping her finger against the glass snowdrop he had stuck in his jacket lapel. "Just make sure you keep this. For luck." 

* * *

 

Haggar took a moment to inspect herself in the small compact and frowned at the deep wrinkles etching her face and neck. She'd already squandered so much magic on this little road trip that most of her regained youth had been lost. Still, once she had the star's heart she wouldn't have to worry about that for a long, long time. 

Sendak's impatient stare caught her eye, and she muttered out the scrying spell with little goodwill. The brute had been so testy and rude ever since he'd caught sight of that stupid necklace. 

One of her druids came into view and bowed hurriedly. "Mistress! We have located the star, he is back on the ground!" 

Haggar leaned forward. "Finally! Where is he?" 

"He is on the road heading for the village of Wall." 

She frowned, not bothering to dismiss the druid before ending the spell and directing her ghostly horses due east. 

"What's wrong?" Sendak asked, his shoulders tensing. 

Haggar ignored him. This was fine. So long as she took the shortcut through the fens, she'd intercept the star long before he was in any danger of crossing that blasted Wall. 

* * *

 

Lance kept glancing over his shoulder, half-hoping he'd see Keith run up and join them. It was a fruitless effort, Keith had left them at sunrise, but he still looked. 

A familiar mixture of guilt and shame clotted in his heart, making it hard to breathe every time he saw Katie's morose expression. Once again it was his fault her best friend was gone. She could have joined Keith, but instead, she was stuck babysitting him. 

He was glad when they stopped for lunch by a large boulder near some thick shrubs. His feet needed the rest, and Katie was a fun human to watch. She always looked so serious during mealtimes, as if the food would hop off her plate and run away if she didn't keep an eye on it. Her nose scrunched in a way that was unhealthy for his heart, and he focused taking a sip from the waterskin to calm his emotions. 

They ate quickly, not wanting to waste precious daylight. Lance had just finished repacking everything when Katie held up a hand, shushing him. The sound of distant carriage wheels reached his ears. Before he could react, Katie had shoved him into the bushes and jumped in after him. She ended up landing on him and he wheezed in protest. 

"Are you _trying_ to break my ankle aga-?" 

"Shh!" Katie slapped a hand over his mouth and squirmed until they were both completely hidden. "I don't want to risk someone recognizing you. I don't trust anyone," she murmured. 

Lance cocked his head to one side and regarded her, unaware of the glow illuminating the leaves around them. He pushed her hand away. "If we have to hide every time we pass someone on the road-" 

"It'll be okay, Lance," Katie promised. They both waited, listening as the carriage got closer, closer, closest, then farther and farther away. Katie sat up a bit, and Lance took the opportunity to wiggle his other arm free. 

"Aren't you tempted?"

Katie looked at him in surprise, and Lance blushed. He hadn't meant to blurt it out like that.

She leaned in close, her nose brushing against his. "Tempted by what?" 

He pulled down the collar of his shirt, exposing the smooth skin above his heart. Katie stared, and he shivered. "Immortality," he choked out. 

Lance shook his head when Katie opened her mouth to deny it. "No, say it was a different heart. Not me. What if it was a star you didn't know?" 

Katie pursed her lips. "You seriously think I could commit cold-blooded murder?" Lance snorted and looked away. Of course, he should have known better than to ask such a question. He let her pull him into a sitting position. "Even if I could, I wouldn't want everlasting life," she continued. 

"Really?" 

Katie leaned her head against his shoulder. "No. It'd be too lonely... unless I had someone to share it with. Someone I love. Then it might be diff-... No, no. I couldn't. Not if it meant stealing someone else's life." She stood and brushed the dirt from her cloak. "Come on, if we hurry we'll reach Wall by sundown." 

Lance swallowed the inexplicable lump in his throat and followed suit. 

* * *

 

Lotor and his generals reached the cove by midday. Aside from themselves and the docked sky vessel, there was no one in sight. He caught Ezor and Zethrid's excited grinned and raised a cautious hand. "Everyone remember, Captain Smythe has a fearsome reputation." 

* * *

 

There were days when Coran could fully immerse himself into the role of a fearsome pirate captain with no trouble. He could swear, threaten, lie and cheat until his face turned blue. He enjoyed the billowy shirts and buccaneer swagger, the smell of tar and gunpowder. While it wasn't the life of his dreams, he never begrudged it. 

And then... then there were days when he just wanted to feel pretty. This was one of those days.

He'd given Hunk strict orders that he was not to be disturbed before locking himself in his secret closet. He rifled through the dresses, holding one or two of them up to the mirror before shaking his head and putting them back. There were just too many to choose from. He narrowed it down to two dresses: a simple but cute frock given to him by a barmaid, and a mess of pink ruffles and ribbons. After much consideration, he chose the pink dress.

* * *

 

The generals had the element of surprise on their side. Ezor extended her spell of invisibility to encompass all five of them and they snuck on board without any of the pirates noticing. Lotor dodged around a tall pirate with an orange headband and tried the door to the Captain's quarters. It was locked. 

He licked his lips and raised an eyebrow at his generals. They could either pick the lock and wait for an opportunity to sneak inside unnoticed, or they could create a distraction and force their way in while the pirates were occupied. Zethrid cracked her knuckles so loudly that some of the pirates around in bewilderment. 

Lotor sighed and signaled Ezor to undo her charm. 

The pirates shouted in alarm when five Galra soldiers appeared out of thin air. Zethrid grabbed the nearest one and threw him into two others with a roar. The pirate with the bandana unsheathed his claymore and charged, followed by the rest of the men. 

Zethrid, Ezor, and Acxa held off the crew while Lotor and Narti kicked the captain's door down and rushed inside. 

* * *

 

Once he'd slipped the dress on, Coran picked out a pink feather boa and an elegant white fan. He posed in front of the mirror, fluttering the fan in front of his face and giggling. He tried a few dance steps, then a twirl. The way his skirt puffed out really was a sight to behold. 

"What the devil is this?!" 

Coran gasped and spun around, clutching the fan to his chest. Two Galra were staring at him in shock and bewilderment. 

Raising himself to his full height, Coran advanced on them. "Who are you?" he demanded. A sword to his throat halted him in his tracks. The Galra male leaned in, menacing and regal. 

"I am Prince Lotor, and you will tell me where the star is." 

* * *

 

It took twelve men, but they finally managed to pin the big one down. Hunk pulled out his pistol and pressed the muzzle to her head. "Stand down, or she dies!" he yelled, looking at the other two. The tall one cursed under her breath.

The smaller purple Galra and the thin red one looked at each other before reluctantly dropping their weapons. Hunk waited until all three of them were tied up before rushing into the Captain's quarters. 

"-losing my patience, twinkle-toes! You have three ticks to tell me where the star is before-!" 

Hunk burst on the scene. The remaining two Galra had pinned the Captain against the wall of windows. There was a large bruise on Captain Smythe's cheek, and a dagger pressing into his ribs. All three of them turned to look at Hunk. Aiming his pistol at the white-haired one, Hunk fired. 

With astonishing speed, the Galra male pulled the female in front of him, heedless of her pained gasp when the bullet pierced her heart. Using the body as a shield he leapt through the windows and landed in the water with a great splash. 

Reloading the pistol, Hunk hurried to the window and peered down. The body of the dead Galra bobbed on the surf, but the water was too choppy to make out anything below the surface. He waited with baited breath for two minutes with no sign of the other Galra, and was forced to the conclusion that he had either drowned or slipped away. 

By that time, Coran had trudged over the glass-strewn floor and taken a seat at his enormous desk. Crew members flooded into the room, eager to make sure their captain was safe. Hunk shoved his way through the crowding men and leaned against the desk. "Are you hurt, Captain?" 

The Captain glared up at him, unusually taciturn. 

Hunk resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He could guess what was really on the Captain's mind, and he was glad they were finally getting this out of the way. "Did you tell 'em where your niece and her friends were?" 

Another beat of silence and this time dread reared up in Hunk's stomach. But the Captain shook his head, and Hunk puffed out a relieved sigh. "Then what's the problem?" 

"...My reputation." 

The crew looked their captain up and down. All dressed up with nowhere to go. With one accord they started reassuring him. 

"No, no..." 

"Not at all, Cap'n!" 

Bii-Boh-Bi stepped forward. "It's alright, Captain. We always knew you was a whoopsie!" 

He was promptly shoved to the back of the group. 

"You're still our Cap'n, Cap'n," Hunk affirmed. The confident chorus of "Aye!"s lifted the corners of Coran's mouth. He nodded, once. 

"Was it just the two of them?" 

Hunk jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "We've got three more tied up to the mast." 

"Right." The Captain hopped out of his chair with renewed vigor. "Everyone out! I need to change."

* * *

 

Katie shaded her eyes and peered ahead. The road was empty, and there was still no sign of Wall. It was nearing dusk, it might be better just to find shelter for the night and finish the journey tomorrow. She turned to Lance, wanting his opinion, and stopped short. He'd bent down by the side of the road and was trying to lure a rabbit out from under a shrub. The grin on his face was... well, it literally set him aglow. 

"You sparkle sometimes, did you know?" she asked. Lance jerked and the glow faded. The rabbit hopped away. 

The look he gave her was reminiscent of that first night, only now the scorn was replaced with faint amusement. "Well, let's think. What do stars do best?" 

Katie pretended to think about it. "Find trouble?" 

Lance squawked in indignation and started stomping down the path, leaving her in his dust. She jogged to catch up and took his hand. "Sorry, give me another guess?" Katie batted her eyelashes in a contrite manner. Eying her suspiciously, Lance nodded. "Let's see... is it, "they know exactly how to annoy a girl called Katie Holt"?" 

Lance pulled his hand away with an affronted expression. "You're absolutely-" 

But Katie never got to hear what her absolute state of being was. Someone was coming up the road behind them. She pushed Lance behind a tree and they both peered at the approaching stranger. A dingy yellow caravan pulled by a sorry looking horse was plodding around the bend in the road. The driver was a middle-aged Galra woman with a sour expression. Lance tugged at Katie’s sleeve. 

"I've seen her before, she's one of Coran's friends. She trades at the Wall!" he hissed. 

Katie blinked several times. Coran, friends with a tramp? The only nice thing she could see about the caravan was a pretty swallow chained to a perch. "Really?" 

"Yes!" 

She glanced up at the sky. It certainly would be preferable to reach Wall by nightfall. And if she really was a friend of the Captain...

The woman pulled her horse to a stop and glared at the strange girl who hopped out of the woods. 

"Excuse me, would you be willing to give us safe passage to the Wall?" Katie called out, holding up her hands to show she meant no ill will. She heard Lance run up to stand behind her. The Galra squinted at her, then at the surrounding trees. 

Seemingly, she was satisfied that no one else was going to pop out of the forest. "The Wall, eh? What's your hurry?" 

"None of your business, Trugg!" Lance snapped. 

Katie elbowed him. "I'll pay you!" She pulled out a pouch of coins, one of Coran's parting gifts. Trugg paid no heed to Lance's comment and eyed the bag greedily. 

"Well, I'd be willing to give you passage-" 

" _Safe_ passage," Katie stressed. 

Holding up a hand, Trugg took on a stern air. "I swear, you will arrive at Wall in the exact same condition that you are now." She hunched over and spat a wad of phlegm onto the grass. Lance wrinkled his nose. 

Katie leaned over and looked at the baskets strapped to the sides of the caravan. "I don't suppose you could also sell us a Babylon candle?" 

Trugg tried to look offended. "Oh no, I've no dealings in black magic." She flinched and scowled when the swallow let out a harsh chirp right in her ear. "But, I do have some wares you might be interested in." 

She pulled out a small bouquet of glass flowers. Katie sucked in a breath and took a few steps closer. Grinning, Trugg stepped down from her seat and met her halfway. 

"Are these enchanted flowers? What do they do?" Katie poked a glass rose. 

The hedge witch seemed slightly impressed. "You know about enchanted flowers?" 

"Not really? I know snowdrops are supposed to be lucky." 

Trugg snorted and pulled out a perfect white snowdrop. It was nearly identical to Keith's- 

"Actually, snowdrops give their owners protection. If you'd had one it would have stopped me from doing this." She jabbed Katie in the forehead with a meaty finger, and a puff of grey smoke enveloped her. 

Lance could only watch in growing alarm as the smoke shrank into a small ball before dissipating completely. Katie was gone, a disoriented calico cat with brown eyes stood in her place. Trugg snickered. 

"What did you do to her?!" Lance screamed.

He charged at the witch, but just before he reached her and invisible wall pushed him back. He growled in frustration and tried again, and again, and again. Each and every time he was blocked by the unseen force. Trugg ignored him completely, even with his shouted profanities and threats. She picked up the cat by the scruff of her neck and headed for the caravan, Lance a frustrating two feet behind her all the while. 

"I'll keep my word, ye'll not be harmed," Trugg muttered, throwing the cat inside the caravan. She turned around to return to the driver's seat, and Lance planted himself right in front of her. 

"Listen, you filthy witch, if you don't-" He yelped and stumbled. With each step Trugg took, he was being pushed back. She didn't spare him a glance as she took up her reins and whipped the horse into a plodding walk. 

Lance trotted to keep up and stared at her with narrowed eyes. "Am I right in thinking you cannot see or hear me, you two-faced, flea-bitten rat?" 

Trugg started whistling. The swallow nodded its head once in seeming confirmation. 

"Well, if I don't get my Pidge back the way she was, I'll make your life a living hell!" he spat. His impotent rage went unnoticed, and he had to settle for climbing into the caravan to check on Katie. 

* * *

 

Captain Smythe emerged from his cabin in full pirate regalia. He wore his favorite hat with the plume of ostrich feathers, a teal green jacket with gold buttons, immaculately pressed breeches and black boots so shiny they could have been mirrors. He glowered at the tied up generals, his mustache growing a size or two with sheer animosity. 

"Before I rip out your tongues and throw them to the bilge rats," Coran began, and the crew growled approvingly, "you're going to tell me why you decided to make the monumentally idiotic mistake of attacking me and my crew." 

The silence that followed was far too defiant for his liking. He pulled out a sword and pointed it at the red one. "I suggest you speak up before I feed you to the sharks." 

Ezor sniffed. "Do you honestly think you scare us? We'd never betray Lotor." 

"Why not? He doesn't give a damn about you," Hunk pointed out. "He literally sacrificed your friend so he could run away." 

"Narti's dead?" Acxa whispered, the news finally breaking through her calm mask. Ezor looked equally shocked. Hunk described her death and Lotor's involvement. He wasn't sure what was sadder; their obvious distress at losing their friend... or the fact that they didn't seem all that surprised. 

At first, he thought Zethrid wasn't listening to his explanation, she kept looking toward the shore. But then: 

"That son of a bitch, look." 

Everyone looked up at the rolling hills. A lone figure was mounting one of the horses and riding away. 

Acxa swallowed. "He's getting reinforc-" 

"Don't give me that, Acxa! The bastard got Narti killed and abandoned us!" Zethrid snarled, baring her teeth. She looked the Captain square in the eye. "You want answers? Fine. I'll tell you everything."

* * *

 

There wasn't much space in the little caravan. Lance sat on the cramped bed and looked around at the hanging baskets and wobbly shelves. The calico jumped into his lap and started purring. 

Lance tried to look her in the eye. "Katie? Can you understand me? Meow twice for yes." 

Katie licked her paw and started cleaning her ear. 

"Katie? Pidge?" 

Now the other ear.

He groaned and gave up, settling for scratching under her chin. The purrs got louder and she started butting her head against his hand for more pets. Lance scooped her up and scratched behind her ears, earning a happy yawn. "Don't worry, Pidge. I'll make sure you don't stay like this." 

Katie's purrs eased him into a state of drowsiness, and he let his mind wander as the caravan swayed back and forth. 

"You know how I said I've been watching your world for years? How I liked watching all the adventures you humans got into?" Katie opened one eye, and he took it as a yes. "Well, that's not entirely true. I loved all the adventures, but my favorite thing was to see the way mankind... loves. I've watched human love for centuries, and to be honest, it's the only thing that makes watching your world bearable." 

He had to stop for a moment and wink away a few tears. "I saw all the wars, the pain, lies, hate. There were times when I wanted to turn around and never look again. And yet... humanity's capacity for love... I've searched the edges of the universe and never found anything quite as beautiful. 

"I learned so much by watching you. I know love is unconditional, but it can also be unpredictable, unexpected, uncontrollable, _unbearable_... And oddly easy to mistake for loathing."

Katie was staring at him now, ears perked up. Lance paused, wondering if she could understand him now, but she just patted his nose with a paw. He laughed, it did little to quell his rising emotions. 

"You're going to think I'm ridiculous - my brothers and sisters already call me a hopeless romantic - but Pidge, I... I think I love you. 

"Whenever we're together, my heart feels like my chest can barely contain it. I don't think it belongs to me anymore, it belongs to _you_. It's all yours, Pidge, if you want it. And it wouldn't cost anything, except knowing that in some small way you cared about me too. I know it's silly to expect you to feel the same way after so little time together, but if you-... if you _did_ I'd gladly take care of your heart in exchange for mine." 

He leaned down and pressed a tear-soaked kiss to the top of Katie's head. She buried her nose into Lance's shoulder and fell asleep.


	9. A Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A bird may love a fish but where would they build a home together?” - Joseph Stein

He was running out of rations.

Keith frowned and dug through his pack, hoping to find an overlooked bundle. No such luck. He inched back to the edge of the canyon and peered down.

Like Coran had promised, part of the Rock Maze ran alongside the western road leading to Daizabaal's capital city. The mazy, now that Keith could see it in the morning light, was an impossibly large canyon interspersed with ridges and spires that cut it into hundreds of paths, all of them twisting in typical labyrinthian fashion around each other and disappearing into the distance. There was a small, steep trail leading from the main road to the bottom of the ravine, but other than that there wasn’t a single sign of life. The purplish grey rock that the canyon was carved from bore no vegetation whatsoever.

It was certainly no place to venture without adequate provisions. A signpost indicated that the nearest town was another day's journey away, and he barely had enough food to get him that far.

Keith bit his lip (winced, he was still getting used to his fangs) and tried to think it out. If he hurried to the town, he could buy more provisions and come back. That would be the sensible thing to do. But it would also add at least another day to his trip, and he wanted to rejoin Katie and Lance as soon as possible.

He could just climb down there now and hope to find the super-secret society's base before he died of hunger.

Of course, that would be very risky and not at all advisable. Although, if it worked he'd be at Wall that much sooner.

It didn't take much deliberation on his part. Keith slung the pack over his shoulder, made sure his blade was secure in its sheath and started picking his way down the trail.

* * *

 

The caravan arrived at Wall just as indigo shadows of evening draped over the edges of the sky. Trugg jerked her horse to a stop and lurched off the seat, jostling the sleeping sparrow in the process. It twittered angrily until she swiped at with her hand. "Shut up," she groused.

Opening the door a crack, Trugg peered into the caravan's interior. Two reflective eyes stared back at her and were accompanied by an angry hiss.

"Well isn't that gratitude for ya? C'mere!" She opened the door wider and snatched the calico by the scruff of the neck. The cat growled and spat, but otherwise provided no trouble.

Trugg had thought about keeping the girl as another slave, the other one was getting older and far too lippy, but unfortunately, she'd made a bargain. She needed the money in that pouch more than an extra pair of hands. Speaking of which...

A poke to the cat's forehead conjured up a growing ball of smoke. Lesser Fey looked on in curiosity as the girl emerged from the smoke, swaying like a storm-tossed ship. Trugg took the opportunity to snatch the girl's money pouch and pocket it.

"You-" the girl slurred, taking a wobbly step before tumbling to the cobblestone street.

Trugg laughed, pinning her scraggly hair behind an ear as a soft breeze rushed past her. "Take it easy, girl, and get some rest. Your brain'll be scrambled for a while." She hopped back on the seat and made for town square. With any luck, she'd sell most of her flowers by midnight.

Lance pulled Katie to her feet and supported most of her weight when she threatened to fall again. "Katie! Are you alright? Tell me you're alright!" he begged, cupping her face with one hand.

Katie's normally sharp eyes were caught in a fog. "Lance?"

"Yes, Pidge."

The use of the nickname seemed to delight her. She grinned and nuzzled against his hand. "'m sleepy."

Choking back a laugh, Lance looked around the mostly empty street. A sign bearing the picture of a Galra in armor being run through by a spear hung from one of the larger buildings, accompanied with the helpful title "The Slaughtered Prince". He scooped the already dozing Katie in his arms. "Can't be worse than the last inn we visited," he muttered.

* * *

 

Keith tilted his water skin and squeezed the last few drops onto his parched tongue. He leaned against the canyon wall and shaded his eyes. Ahead of him were three paths, all of them identical. The noon sun shone directly overhead, beating down on his neck and removing any shade the stone ridges might have provided.

This... might have been a mistake.

It hadn't looked so bad when he first started out. The cool morning wind kept him refreshed as he stepped into the maze. He'd chosen the middle path, thinking it likely that the secret base was probably somewhere near the middle of the maze. Of course, the base could be anywhere, but he just had a feeling. It followed the arbitrary logic that most Fey used.

But keeping to the middle wasn't easy. Every time he chose a path with that intent it would soon after twist and wind in another direction entirely, and he'd have to try and correct his course at the next intersection. Five hours later, and he had no idea if he was anywhere near his goal. He couldn't even climb the walls to try and get the lay of the land - they were too smooth and sheer.

His legs slide out from under him and he plopped to the ground.

"What am I doing here?" he muttered.

He should have stayed with Katie and Lance. His mother was probably somewhere in Wall, waiting for him, wondering why he hadn't used the candle to rescue her.

The sheath was digging into his thigh. He unbuckled it from his belt and pulled out the knife. It looked remarkably dull in the bright sunlight.

What was so special about this knife? More likely than not Coran had mistaken it for the ones supposedly used by the secret society. This was a mistake. He needed to go back, find Katie, find his mother.

He pushed himself up, got ready to turn back, and... A sick burning grew in his chest as soon as the thought entered. It settled into his being - not his heart, no, somewhere deeper, and refused to leave. Keith's hand clenched the hilt of the knife and he glared at it. There was no sense to it, regardless his entire being screamed to move forward. Something enticed him onward, whispering dreams about destiny and purpose.

The thought ripped a laugh from his throat. What sort of destiny was there for the changeling son of a carpenter? His only purpose at the moment was to save his family and friends, not wander this maze until he withered and died.

And yet... to leave without completing his task. It wasn't in his blood.

The blade started to glow. Keith gawked as the crest engraved in the hilt gained a life of its own, brightening from a dreary shade of plum to an overpoweringly bright lavender. It burned into his eyes and he was on the verge of dropping it when the light shrank and focused into a single beam. After he'd blinked the dancing spots away, Keith realized the light was pointing directly at one of the paths twisting away to the right.

"Am I... supposed to follow you?" he asked the knife. The knife didn't respond.

Well, it was the clearest sign he'd had all day. Keith held the knife out in front of him and followed the beam.

He didn't notice the hooded and cloaked figures trailing behind him.

* * *

 

Sendak kept glancing at the witch. Every so often she would whip her horses to faster and faster speeds. The countryside now passed by in a smear of green and yellow. He didn't care, the sooner he got the Flame the better, but Haggar's silence left him uneasy. She was hiding something from him.

"What is it?" he finally snapped.

Haggar sniffed. "Nothing _you_ have to worry about."

His lip curled up, revealing a row of sharp teeth.

"Oh please." She rolled her eyes. "Your precious rock is fine. I just worry we'll be too late for my prize."

Sendak leaned back in his seat and cocked his head. "How so?"

"The star is getting close to the Wall between Realms. If he crosses the threshold, he'll be nothing more than a lump of metallic rock." Her hand curled into a fist as if the very thought of losing her prize was too much to bear. Perhaps it was.

* * *

 

Katie found herself stretched out on a large, fluffy bed. She wiggled a bit further into the sheets and resisted the urge to fall back asleep. Her mind was comfortably empty, save for the nagging thought that seeped down into her heart and set it aglow.

It took a minute to convince herself to sit up and look around. The bedroom was small but elegantly furnished. There was a closet, vanity, and a door leading off to a private bathroom. Afternoon sunlight streamed in through a small window directly opposite the bed, and she could just see a street and the buildings on the other side. She sat up straighter, trying to remember how she'd gotten there.

_The woman with the flowers._

Unbidden, one of her hands pinched her knee, just to make sure she was awake. Katie remembered the swaying caravan, the way each word echoed in her ears, the utter _joy_.

But where was Lance now?

As if in answer, he emerged from the bathroom. He saw Katie sitting up in bed and yelped, clutching at the thin towel wrapped around his waist. Katie could only admire the way his wet hair clung and curled around his brow. The silver chain around his neck gleamed in the sunlight.

"Pidge, you're awake." His eyes scanned her face, looking for any sign of distress. "How do you feel? You slept for a long time."

Katie stretched her arms above her head and grinned, too happy to hide behind any lingering doubts. "I feel great. Being a cat's not so bad."

Lance sighed and gave her an exasperated glare. "It wasn't so fun for me."

"I know." She slid out of bed and reached for him. Lance took one of her hands in his with a bashful smile, ducking his head.

"Lance?"

He looked up and raised a questioning eyebrow.

Katie leaned in closer. Bold and oh so frightened. "Did you really mean what you said? Back in the caravan?"

It was almost amusing, watching the way the confused purse of his lips widened into a surprised and mortified "oh".

He tried to shrink away, but she followed. Lance settled for covering his face with a hand and refusing to meet her eye. "You were a cat!" he mumbled. "You were a cat, you didn't- I asked you to-... How much did you...?"

Katie coaxed his hand away and traced the curve of his tomato red neck. "I didn't catch the first bit, my head was pretty out of it," she admitted. "But the rest..." She intertwined his finger with hers and pulled their hands until they pressed against her heart. They both felt how it thudded in her chest.

"Lance, my heart is yours."

A radiant burst of blue light enveloped the room, stealing her breath away. The tips of Lance's hair had ignited into a whiteness that was too pure to be of this world, his eyes blazed in awestruck delight. He leaned down, the tip of his nose brushing against hers. His other hand wrapped around her and Katie willingly sank into his hold. She took the initiative to rise to her toes and seal her lips against his.

Lance was eager, chasing after her touch and taste with a gentle desperation that only made her hungrier. She took control of the kiss and pulled him close, closer, closest. Each breath was an intimate reminder of how much time had been wasted.

Katie had never thought about falling in love, not seriously. There was always something else to worry about besides whether or not she was in love with someone. She had her family, and Keith and his father, and that had been enough.

And then Lance crashed into her life. Lovely, stubborn, willful, generous, Lance. His love settled into her bones, a blissful ecstasy that was never satisfied. He would never make things easy for her, and she loved him all the more for it. Even now he was urging her on, his hand pressed over her heart as if each beat meant more to him than entire galaxies.

She leaned back just enough to whisper in his ear. "I love you."

* * *

 

It took another hour, but Keith's gut told him he was getting close. The blade provided an unerring guide through the maze, and as shadows lengthened over the canyon the heat of the day became easier to cope with. He was still thirsty, and after tonight he'd be without food, but the prospect of what he might find set his limbs abuzz with energy.

The middle of the maze took him by surprise. He msde a sharp right turn, expecting to find another branching path, and skidded to a stop. It looked like a giant had taken a cookie cutter to the rock and left a gigantic hole in its wake. Keith leaned over and looked down, it was pitch black and the bottom was nowhere in sight.

The sides of the hole were just as sheer as the canyon walls. Maybe if he had some rope-

A large, clawed hand grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. He yelled and twisted, caught a glimpse of yellow eyes and a black hood, before he was thrown into the pit.

The whistling air in his ears grew into a scream as Keith disappeared into inky darkness. He gasped and flailed out. There was nothing to hold on to, nothing to break his fall. He wasn't even sure if the falling would end. The only speck of light came from his blade, and even that was fading. It flickered a few times before going out completely. It was just him and the howling void.

"I'm going to die," he whispered.

The snowdrop fluttered to life in protest.

Pearly white magic wreathed around his body, creating a web of comfort that calmed his stuttering heart. His hair stopped whipping around his face and settled against his neck. He was slowing down now, his stomach no longer heaving from free-fall. The howling faded along with the pull of gravity until he could only hear his jagged breaths echoing off the unseen walls.

It took five minutes for Keith to float to the bottom. He felt the press of cool stone on his hands and knees and shuddered in relief. There was one last pulse of warmth before the snowdrop's light bled away, leaving him alone in the dark.

Or maybe not so alone.

"How did he survive?!" a gravelly voice demanded.

Another voice, deep and smooth: "Calm yourself, Antok."

"He didn't awaken the Blade! The spell only allows Blades to enter unscathed!"

Keith got to his feet and held out his knife. "Who are you?" he rasped. Small chuckles echoed around him.

"He's a brave cub," a new voice laughed. "I'm not surprised he got this far."

"But what do we do with him now? We can't just let him leave."

"He didn't pass the test!" the gravelly voice barked, and murmurs of assent followed.

Blinking back tears of frustration, Keith peered into the darkness. "Please, do any of you know Krolia?"

The laughter broke off into stunned silence. A tiny click followed shortly after and thick veins of light spread across the floor. Shadowy figures sprang into being all around him, their faces veiled by hoods. All of them carried a black blade with the purple crest.

One of them stepped forward, and though their face was hidden Keith had the distinct impression he was being inspected. "How do you know that name?" the figure asked.

"She's my mother."

The other figures turned to look at one another. "Impossible," the gravelly-voiced one (a giant, Keith realized now that he could see him) said in disbelief.

"Where is she? We haven't been in contact with her in years," another voice asked.

The figure in front of Keith held up his hand. "Not here. I have a feeling this is a long story." The hand reached up and pulled back his hood, revealing an older Galra. His long white hair was tied back in a braid, and when the light caught his face Keith saw a pale scar running over his right eye and down to his lip. The Galra stared back, inscrutable and steady. "Follow me, son of Krolia."

* * *

 

"We need to find her again."

They were lying on the bed, or rather, Lance was lying on the bed and Katie was on top of him. She rubbed her foot against his bare calf to get his attention. Lance cracked open an eye and yawned. "What was that?"

"The woman. Trugg. We need to find her."

The lazy, contented aura around him vanished. He sat up too quickly and Katie slid onto the mattress. She scowled, but still leaned in when he pushed her bangs back. "Are you insane?" he asked, earnest and worried.

Katie rolled her eyes and sat up completely, straightening her rumpled shirt. "It's important, Lance. I think I know who she is."

"So do I. She's a witch!"

She squished his face with her hands. "Lance, Keith's mother was enslaved by a witch. A witch who sold _magic flowers_."

"But-"

But there had been another woman with Trugg at Vince's office. A woman whose eyes were identical to Keith's. "Ohhhh... But Pidge, your dad and brother..."

A familiar look of pain washed over her face. Lance's frown deepened and pulled her up for a kiss. She leaned away smiling. "We'll look for them too."

* * *

 

Kolivan listened to Keith's story, starting from his parent's meeting until he'd left his friends to find the rock maze. The only part he kept hidden was Lance's true identity, but he had a feeling Kolivan could tell he was hiding something. Other Galra crowded into the already cramped alcove, their faces running the gamut of wonder to horror as the tale unfolded.

"Krolia's been a witch's slave this whole time?" the giant muttered.

A tall, thin Galra shook his head. "Why have we never heard any news about this? We should have seen some sign of her on our travels!"

Kolivan's gaze fell to the stones at his feet. "Witches have many ways of staying hidden. We may have passed Krolia a hundred times and never known it." He straightened and looked at the group. "Unfortunately, we cannot devote our full attention to this matter until we have located the Flame."

They all nodded in somber agreement.

Keith's pupils narrowed into bits of ice. "Um, what Flame? Why is it more important than my mother?" he asked, bitter and harsh.

The corner of Kolivan's mouth twitched. "The Flame of Daizabaal is the ultimate symbol of authority, it grants the first worthy Galra who finds it the right to rule. Zarkon is dead, and the Flame is missing. The Blade of Marmora," he gestured around them, "has been preparing for this time for decades. Our goal is to find the Flame first, and put an end to the line of warmongering tyrants that have brought misery and bloodshed upon the people of Daizabaal for almost a millennia."

Keith folded his arms. "Seems to me like it's this Flame's fault. It's the one choosing the kings."

Kolivan nodded. "True. The criteria by which the Flame determines the worthiness of a ruler has never been examined. It's always been assumed that only the strongest may wield it. We hope that by finding it before any of Zarkon's generals, the Flame will choose as wiser ruler."

Glancing at Antok, Keith had to bite his tongue. Wise, huh? More like paranoid. It seemed to him that their sacred quest boiling down to a war between factions, a war he wasn't remotely interested in. "So you won't help me."

"I didn't say that."

The thin Galra straightened when Kolivan pointed at him. "Ulaz will accompany you to Wall and help you locate Krolia."

Ulaz smiled and nodded. "It would be my honor."

"Good. You'll leave in the morning."

Keith was ushered into another tiny room (thankfully equipped with a bed) and left alone before he had a chance to protest. He looked down at his blade, all too aware of the disappointment curdling in his stomach. This had been a waste of time after all.

"Mom... what the hell?"

* * *

 

The market was just as Mr. Kogane had described: crowded, chaotic, and colorful. Lance kept a tight grip on Katie's hand, which she was grateful for. The last thing she wanted right now was to get separated in the press of Fey around them. He seemed content to let her take the lead, something she was less grateful for as she had no idea where to begin. They hovered around the edge of the square until a group of impatient dwarves inadvertently herded them toward the center.

Lance leaned down, his wide hood shielding both of their faces. "How are we supposed to find her here?" he whispered.

Another Fey jostled into them and they jumped back. Katie shrugged and looked around in growing dismay. There were just too many people here and all of them vying for attention. She could already spot several vendors staring at them with greedy expressions.

"I guess we just look around and... hope for the best?" She started walking toward the end of the square. "Keep an eye out for Babylon candles too."

Katie missed the hard edge in Lance's muttered, "Right."

It was hard not to be drawn in and distracted at each stall. This market seemed to house everything magical or just odd. There was food, tools, animals, clothes, weapons, games, furniture, rugs, books, and who knew what else. There were fireproof cloaks made from salamander hide, wands of every size and shape laid out in neat rows, imps bickering among themselves between cages, and even - Katie just caught a glimpse before the shifty looking Fey covered them with a blanket - a few lightning canisters.

There weren't any Babylon candles. Katie stopped asking after the fifth vendor squinted and tried to pull Lance's hood off.

Aside from herself, there didn't seem to be any humans around either. Lance sensed her growing frustration and rubbed circles into her palm with his thumb. After half an hour of aimless wandering, Katie led Lance to a magic carpet stall. She pushed aside some of the carpets hanging in a corner until they formed a makeshift curtain between them and the rest of the market.

Lance wrapped his arms around her. "Maybe we should wait until it's not so busy?" he suggested. "Or maybe Trugg's not here, she might have left already. And we should probably go to the inns to ask about your father and brother. I don't know if anyone here would have remembered seeing them."

Katie buried her face in his shirt, let herself enjoy the rise and fall of his breathing.

"Pidge?"

She nodded. "I think we should just call it a day. Let's go back and get some din-"

The carpet vendor yelled and ran away from his booth, nearly crashing into them in the process. Katie caught a brief glimpse of the wild fear in his eyes right before the screaming reached her ears.

"What-" Lance shouted, but the rest was lost on her as the shouting grew in volume. All around them the Fey rushed past like a herd of frightened deer. Shoving some carpets out of the way, Katie soon saw why.

A thick, crackling cloud of purple energy was bringing about a total rout on the crowded market. It plowed through the square with no regard for who or what was in its path. Everything it touched was flung high and away. Whole booths were tossed in the air only to crush the panicked Fey trying to escape through clogged alleys.

It took a second to process what was happening, and another to realize the cloud was heading straight for them at an alarming speed. She and Lance grabbed each other's hand with one accord and ran.

Tried to run, that is. Every instant they weren't being bumped or driven aside, they were trying to keep from being trampled. It was impossible to move more than a foot in any direction. There were just too many people.

Sweat dripped into Katie's eyelashes and down her chin. She could hear the cloud now, sizzling with dark magic and malice.

A squeak escaped when Lance grabbed her. He crushed her against his side just before a troll-like creature barrelled past. Other Fey leapt aside, clearing a path for the ponderous beast. Katie took the opportunity and raced to follow in its wake with Lance right behind her. They actually weren't that far from one of the side-streets. Just a few more yards and they slip away.

Lance shrieked and Katie's arm nearly jerked from its socket. A tendril of the cloud had broken off and wrapped itself around Lance's leg. It started dragging him away.

"No! Lance!"

Katie grabbed both his hands and pulled, ignoring the hot flashes of pain in her body as she fought the impossible. Lance kicked and writhed in futile attempts to escape. They were both being dragged along at an inexorable pace and the cloud bore down on them.

"Pidge, let me go!" Lance yelled, staring over his shoulder at the looming wall of magic.

She wouldn't dignify that with an answer. Gritting her teeth, she braced her feet against the uneven cobblestones and _heaved_. Lance cried out from the strain of being pulled so roughly in opposite directions, but he didn't move another inch. For a tiny moment, Katie and the cloud reached an impasse.

Something akin to a snarl of disgust hissed through the ionized air, and the cloud rushed forward. There was the vague sensation of rot and blood in her mouth before she was ripped away from Lance and hurled into the nearest building. She distinctly heard a sharp crack and crumpled to the ground in a wheezing, battered heap. Between the shadows at the edge of her vision and the throbbing in her temples that wasn't quite pain (but would be in another minute), Katie barely registered the sight of Lance getting sucked into the roiling, triumphant cloud.

* * *

 

Haggar watched the chaos unfold with little interest. She kept to her little alley and waited for her snare to finish its task. A few terrified Fey ran past her, unheeding of the wizened woman wrapped in her long robes.

It didn't take long. She felt it coiling and trapping her prey, could almost taste the addicting flesh already. The cloud retreated back to her like a wave during low tide. It shrank and compressed until it had transfigured into a thin silver chain and neatly deposited its prize at her very feet.

The star moaned and struggled against the bonds tying his wrists together. Haggar looped the other end of the chain around her knobbly knuckles and waited with almost maternal patience. His eyes met hers and he started shivering. 

Smiling, Haggar gave the chain a light tug. "Well? Get up," she said.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

"Come now, don't make me drag you."

The star pressed his trapped hands over his heart. "Please, let me go," he whispered.

Haggar tsked. "Don't make this more difficult on yourself, boy-"

"Wha's goin' on then?"

A stumbling figure weaved it's way down the alley, a bottle of whiskey clutched in her grimy hand. Haggar's eyes narrowed to slits as the drunken excuse for a witch approached. Even her magic, pitiful as it was, seemed tipsy and unbalanced.

Trugg didn't notice Haggar until she was nearly on top of her, her bloodshot eyes fixated on the ruined marketplace beyond. She tripped over the hem of Haggar's robe and swayed to a stop.

"You really are the most pathetic witch I've ever met," Haggar hissed, her tolerant demeanor evaporating in an instant. Trugg looked at her, slack-jawed and uncomprehending.

Haggar sighed and snapped her fingers. It took some effort, her joints were stiff, but it was well worth seeing Trugg's entire being spontaneously combust. She kept a tight grip on the chain while the star gasped and tried to jerk away from the roaring flames. In less than a minute they were both staring at a pile of greyish ash.

Which, of course, was when Sendak decided to show up. He stormed up to her, his eyes fixed on the star. "My stone," he growled. The star cringed back and clutched at a lump under his shirt, his chest still heaving from shock.

Haggar opened her mouth to make a smart retort but paused. There was a voice on the breeze. All three of them froze and strained to listen.

Off in the distance, trembling with pain and anxiety... "Lance!"

The star jerked and turned toward the square. The faintest shimmer of blue illuminated the hope in his eyes. "Pidge," he whispered.

Haggar recognized that voice.

"Sendak."

A grunt.

"Kill that girl, then you can take the stone and be on your way."

He stared at her in surprise. A slow and savage chuckle rumbled out into the cramped alley before he made for the square.

The star yelled and scrambled to his feet. "No! Please, no!" he pleaded. Sendak ignored him and disappeared around the corner.

"KATIE! KATIE, RUN AWAY! RUN!" He yanked against the chain in manic desperation. Blood smeared his raw wrists. 

Haggar started dragging him away, toward the carriage where she could give her weary legs a rest. "Enough of that," she snarled.

She was caught off guard when the star whirled on her, his eyes burning blue. The fragile aura around him crescendoed into a blaze of power. He stalked toward her, his fury licking out to burn her hands and face. Haggar fell back against the wall, curling her lip against the unfamiliar sensation of fear percolating through her.

_"Let. Me. Go."_

Haggar swallowed a hysterical laugh. None of them had ever tried fighting back before. It was almost... enchanting, a display of pure cosmic energy. Nothing existed except her and this otherworldly creature.

Then Sendak was laughing, loud and brutal. They both discerned the girl's brief scream.

And the light vanished. Haggar was left feeling terribly cold. The star took a step toward the square.

"Katie...?"

Silence bellowed back at them. The star sank to the ground with a choked whimper, his head bowed.

His apparent grief gave Haggar the time she needed to pull herself together. She thanked whatever dark powers had sent Sendak her way those weeks ago. He'd finally proved to be a useful pawn.

When she beckoned the star to get up and follow her, he did so without complaint. She led him to the waiting carriage with its spectral horses and held the door open for him. One of his tears fell on her hand as he climbed inside. They waited, the star slumped across one of the seats and the witch nearly bent over double by the door. 

Five minutes passed, and Sendak did not appear.

A tremor of foreboding chilled Haggar's breast. She had no more time to waste. If Sendak didn't come to claim his prize, so be it. She was done with him. Slamming the door shut, she achingly climbed into the driver's seat and whipped the horses into a canter.

* * *

 

Katie fell back to the ground with a weak cough. Her hand traced the bruises she could already feel blackening on her throat, even as her head cleared with each grateful breath. She stared up, bemused, at the hulking Galra who had tried moments before to throttle her. He stared back.

They both stared at the bloody tip of the sword sticking out of his chest.

More blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. For someone so big, he fell to the ground with little more than a muffled thump.

A Galra with Keith’s eyes stood just behind him, cleaning the sword with the hem of her red dress. Katie saw the last bits of a silver chain melting from her ankle.

"Krolia?" 

Krolia paused mid-wipe. "How do you-? Nevermind. Where is your friend?"


	10. A Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars." - Augustine "Og" Mandino

Haggar waited until Wall disappeared over the horizon before pulling the carriage to a halt and reaching into her robes for the mirror. A druid appeared in its reflection and bowed low. "I will return in two day's time. Make sure everything is ready for our arrival," she ordered. The druid nodded and turned to leave, yelling for the two slaves to get to cleaning.

She pocketed the mirror and looked around. The road traveling north from Wall was a narrow dirt path between the edges of a forest and open grasslands. It would take a day and night of hard riding to reach the open plains, another to pass the foothills of her mountains.

A cold wind ruffled her scraggly hair and she repressed a shudder as it tugged at her old bones. Only a few more days and she'd finally have her prize.

She tugged at the end of the silver chain and looked over her shoulder, making sure the star wasn't trying to sneak out of the carriage. Not that it would matter. There was no sign of movement from behind the carriage windows, so she grabbed the reins and urged the spectral horses into a gallop.

Lance was curled up on one of the seats. He stared at the fluttering gap in the curtain, watching the trees whip by in a frenzy of greens, browns, and a single flash of white. The carriage lurched forward and he had to press his tied wrists against the cushions to keep from being flung to the floor. There was a drop of dried blood on the cushion.

_"The Flame is mine," Sendak whispered. Lance screamed and blood spurted from Ranveig's throat._

He moaned and buried his head in the crook of his arms. Tears soaked his cheeks for the second time in as many hours.

Katie would be alive if it weren't for him. She'd be safe, her family reunited if he hadn't fallen. The witch wouldn't have sent that killer after her, she wouldn't have spent her last moments trying to find him. She should have left him in the forest when she had the chance.

The stone dug into his neck. He sat up just enough to wrap his hands around it and tried to pour all his grief into the dull facets until he became hard and numb and hollow.

* * *

 

"She took him," Katie sobbed, looking around the destroyed market one last time before darting into an alleyway. Behind her, Krolia yelled for her to wait. She couldn’t wait. The witch had Lance.

Night was falling, its shadows elongated into menacing spikes and pitfalls. She could already feel Lance slipping further and further away.

Where would the witch have taken him? Last time, she'd tried to kill him there and then. It might already be too late.

"Stop!" Krolia yanked her back just before she ran out into one of the clogged side streets. Already crowds of Fey were gathering, anxious and angry as they tried to make sense of what had attacked the square. Katie struggled against Krolia's hold when she was dragged back into the alley.

"Listen! I know who took him, and we cannot fight her-"

"I don't care!" Katie snarled. "I'm not going to let him die!"

"-without a plan!" Krolia finished, already looking exhausted and peeved.

Oh... That made sense. Katie quieted down and let her eyes fall shut for a second. Krolia gently pressed her fingertips against the back of her head, and they both winced at the large goose egg there. "Not as bad is it could have been, I'm surprised you're not worse off."

"The witch who took Lance, who is she exactly?" Katie asked, her voice raspy and nearly garbled now that she wasn't shouting. "I mean, besides a murderer?"

"Her name is Haggar, she is the oldest and most powerful witch in Daizabaal. She got her power by eating the hearts of dozens of stars." Krolia sighed and looked around. "I have friends. Well, I did twenty years ago. They'll be able to help us."

The throbbing in her temples increased, but a stray memory forced its way through. "Right... Keith was saying..."

Krolia flinched in surprise and gripped her shoulders. "What?" she hissed, wide-eyed.

Katie peered up at her, still somewhat taken aback by how much she looked like Keith. No, wait, it was the other way around, right? "I'm from Wall, the human town. Keith's my friend. I was there when he read your letter, he took me with him to find you, but we..." Too much. There was too much to say and not enough time.

The grip became vice-like. "Keith's here?"

Katie pried herself away. "No, he went to go look for your friends." She wished he was here. Things might have gone very differently. "How long will it take to find them?"

Krolia didn't answer, her gaze had wandered into some far distance. When Katie nudged her, she blinked.

"Oh. Um, that depends, we-"

Several yells from the street drew their attention and they both peered out. They nearly got crushed as the Fey scattered and pushed up against the buildings on either side of the road. The crowd was splitting in two, making way for two unicorns galloping down the cobbled street. One of them, the larger one, had streaks of blue in her mane.

"Wait, I know her!" Katie gasped, shoving through the wall of people until she stumbled out into the street. Blue caught sight of her and whinnied, skidding to a stop and leaning down to nuzzle her cheek. Another nose poked at her side. The second unicorn was smaller than blue and her mane was tinted a leafy green. Her eyes, bright and inquisitive, radiated a vitality that soothed Katie's aches and pains just by looking into them.

"Do you know where Lance is?" she asked. The two unicorns bobbed their heads.

Krolia approached, maneuvering her way through the stunned crowd. She placed a hand on Katie's shoulder and squeezed. "You should go with them. I'll get help and follow you as fast as I can."

As if in agreement, the smaller unicorn knelt down and looked at Katie expectantly. With less grace than she would have liked, Katie clambered on her back and grabbed a handful of the silky white mane. "Should I call you Green?" she asked awkwardly.

Green shook her head as if to say, _That works_. Both unicorns looked at Krolia.

After a few seconds, Katie cleared her throat. "I think you're supposed to come with us."

"...Are you sure?" Krolia whispered. Blue snorted and shoved her forward. Krolia needed no more urging and settled behind Katie. Satisfied, Green got to her feet. She took a few delicate steps before charging forward, leaving the dumbfounded Fey with nothing but the flick of her tail and Katie's startled yelp. Blue watched them until they rounded a corner before running off towards Wall's southern gate.

* * *

 

It was puzzling. The runes had been leading him to Wall for the past two days, and now they were telling him the star wasn't there. Lotor frowned and tossed them into the air again. "Do I head for Wall?" he repeated. The stones landed rune-side down.

He wasn't quite sure if the rune stones were broken or not. Then again, the star may have simply moved on. If that were the case, and assuming the star took one of the three roads... "Do I head north?"

The stones landed rune-side up.

* * *

 

The horse Kolivan had provided was old and, quite frankly, far too slow for Keith's liking. He resisted the urge to nudge its sides again. The last time he'd done so, the horse had turned and snapped at his ankle.

Ulaz, infuriatingly patient, caught Keith's grimace. "Perhaps we should find a place to camp for the night. We've made good time. With any luck, we'll reach Wall tomorrow."

Keith bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to sting. The longer he thought about it, the more he kicked himself for leaving Katie and Lance. Something akin to panic welled up whenever he thought about what might have happened while he was gone.

His morose thoughts were interrupted by faint hoofbeats in the distance, he and Ulaz twisted in their saddles to look behind them. A rider was cantering up to them fast enough to leave a cloud of dust in his wake. Keith started leading his horse to the side of the road, but as the stranger got closer he realized it wasn't a stranger at all.

Hunk slowed his horse to a trot and then a walk when he saw Keith. Both he and his horse were panting with exhaustion. "Keith!" he gasped, leaning against his saddle horn.

Ulaz raised an eyebrow. "You know him?" he asked Keith. Keith nodded.

"What are you doing here, Hunk?" Keith asked, dread straightening his spine.

It took a moment for Hunk to answer, he looked around worriedly. "Where's Lance?"

_No, no, no..._ "He and Katie went to Wall. I... took a detour."

Hunk groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Listen, Prince Lotor attacked the ship right after you guys left. He wants Lance."

Keith had no idea who that was, but Ulaz clearly did. The older Galra leaned forward. "What does the Prince want with Keith's friend?"

Hunk shot him a suspicious look.

"Ulaz is a friend," Keith said. _I think._

"Right. Lotor knows that Lance is... you know." Hunk gestured to the sky.

Keith blinked in surprise. "Wait, _you_ know?"

Hunk scowled. "I'm the first mate! Of course I know!"

"Okay, okay." Keith held up a placating hand. "So where is he now?"

Flailing a bit, Hunk shrugged. "We don't know! That's why the Captain sent me to warn you!"

No, no, no, no, no... He needed to find Katie and Lance. Now. The sick feeling from before grew until it crawled up his throat and settled there like a putrid frog. Something was wrong, something had happened.

"Someone's coming," Ulaz hissed, looking north this time. He dismounted and led his horse to a thicket of trees. Hunk and Keith followed close behind.

Keith made sure his horse was hidden before sneaking back to the edge of the road, one hand gripping his blade. The bend in the road meant he wouldn't be able to see who was approaching until they were nearly on top of him, but he was fast. Hunk shuffled next to him, loading his gun. "There's at least two of them," he whispered. Keith nodded, now able to hear the sounds of several horses.

Three white figures galloped around the bend, their coats shining even in the dying light. Keith flung out a hand to stop Hunk from shooting, but he needn't have worried. They stared in awe as the small herd unicorns slowed to a stop and stared right at them.

"What are unicorns doing here?" Hunk wondered.

Blue pawed the ground impatiently.

Keith tucked his blade back into his belt. "I don't know, but the last time I saw her we were in serious trouble."

One of the unicorns, a stallion with fiery eyes and a blood red horn, neighed and reared a bit. He dropped back down and glowered at Keith. The other, large and sturdy with golden fetlocks, watched his companion's ire with faint amusement.

Ulaz nudged Keith. "I think they're waiting for you."

Hesitantly, Keith emerged from the thicket. Blue tossed her head and pointed to the north.

"Do you know where Katie and Lance are?" Keith asked.

She nodded.

"Are they in danger?"

She snorted and pranced nervously.

He looked back at Hunk and Ulaz. "I think we need to follow them."

* * *

 

"Hold still," Krolia admonished, pressing a cool compress to the back of Katie's neck, "this will help with the pain."

Katie let her do as she pleased, rolling her eyes. "I already feel better," she muttered. Even after a night of hard riding, her head felt clear and nearly pain-free. She rubbed the back of her head, noting how much smaller the bump had gotten in only a few hours.

Krolia's brows quirked into a puzzled frown and she tilted Katie's head back to get a better look at her throat in the pre-dawn light. "The bruises are nearly gone..." She pursed her lips. “The star… are you two close?”

Blushing, Katie jerked her head away. Behind her, Green nickered in amusement. “What does that have to do with anything?” she demanded.

Shrugging, Krolia settled down in a patch of moss. “Probably nothing. We should try to sleep while Green rests.”

Katie conceded begrudgingly, forcing herself to lie down and close her eyes. Krolia was right. She couldn’t save Lance if she was dead on her feet. _Just breathe_ , she told herself. _Relax…_ Almost immediately, the memory of Lance being dragged away in a cloud of smoke burned in her mind’s eye.

Shuddering, she rolled over and stared at Green. The unicorn grazed at the sparse patches of grass that managed to grow in the shadows of such tall trees. She was almost sure they were in the same forest where she’d first found Lance, but she couldn’t be positive.

Part of her wanted to stay awake and discuss battle plans with Krolia. It was better than thinking about Lance, which was the only alternative. She didn’t want to imagine what Lance was going through, what the witch might have already-

Green nuzzled her cheek, her soft breath blowing away those morbid thoughts. Katie blinked back a few tears and patted her nose. The unicorns wouldn’t have shown up if it was too late. She had to believe that Lance was alive, and that they would reach him in time.

* * *

 

Lotor stole a horse from a farm once his own collapsed from exhaustion. The farmer made little protest as his poor mare was saddled up and taken by the wild-eyed prince.

* * *

 

That first night was so, so miserable. Lance couldn't look at his brothers and sisters without shivering. The pain of losing Katie did little to quell his fears. As much as he grieved, he didn't want to stop grieving. He didn't want to die.

The second day passed in a haze. Haggar didn’t stop her relentless pace for anything, and by the end of the day, Lance had fallen into a hungry, dehydrated stupor. He barely noticed when they reached the foothills, even though the brisk mountain wind flapped the curtains into a frenzy and forced his tired body to shiver in response. The carriage rocked and heaved as it trundled over the unkempt road, and the witch had to slow the horses to a near crawl. The swaying lulled Lance into a fitful sleep, despite his aching wrists and hollow chest.

The nap only lasted a few seconds, or so it seemed, before the carriage jerked to a stop and Haggar flung the door open. She didn’t give him time to think before grabbing a fistful of the chain and yanking him out into the open. He stumbled and fell to his knees, blinking and trying to orient himself in the few seconds before the witch dragged him to his feet.

The witch’s mansion was nestled in the crook of a small valley with steep, jagged walls that prevented anyone from entering except by one narrow pass. The manor wasn’t tall, only three stories, but it sprawled across the confined valley floor in a complacent arrogance that fit its mistress perfectly. Narrow windows squinted down at him, most of them dark and grimy with disuse. With nothing but the moon to illuminate the crumbling facade, it looked like a subterranean creature that had crawled its way to the surface before settling down and hibernating for a few hundred years.

“Don’t just stand there,” Haggar tsked. She led the way up the cracked marble steps to the giant front doors. They opened at her approach, and Lance saw a large entrance hall beyond. Tall druids swathed in long robes lined the hall, their pale masks lit dimly by sickly yellow chandeliers. Lance caught sight of two ragged, woebegone figures huddled in the corner. They shuffled away as soon as he spotted them and disappeared into a side passage.

Haggar didn’t stop until they reached the grand staircase, and then two druids swept up to help her up the stairs while two others pinned Lance’s arms to his side and dragged him along. At the top of the stairs, Haggar shook off her helpers and continued to a black door hidden behind a curtain. She opened it, and the pungent scent of fur and animal droppings hit Lance’s nose. The room was large packed with rows and rows of cages of all shapes and sizes. Birdcages hung from the ceiling, occupied by crows, ravens, owls, larks, nightingales, and eagles. Ferrets and minks chattered and stared at Lance as he passed by. Wolves growled and snapped at the druids when they got too close, only to shrink back and cower when one of the druids pulled out a whip and cracked it against the bars of their cages.

The second room was tiny by comparison and completely empty save for a small table. Lit only by a few wall sconces, the row of obsidian daggers winked and shone darkly against the red velvet tablecloth. The witch paused before the table, her hand hovering over it for a long minute. Finally, she chose one with a large, flat blade, almost a meat cleaver, with a hooked tip. She looked over her shoulder at Lance and smirked. Chuckling at his horrified expression, Haggar shuffled to the last door and waved it open.

* * *

 

Katie peered down at the valley below. Even with their high vantage point up on the pass, it was difficult to make out the dim shape of the mansion with only the moon and stars to light the way. “Is that where she lives?”

Krolia nodded and pulled her behind a large boulder. “Yes, and she has plenty of followers, we’ll need to sneak in and-”

Green snorted and reared, prompting them to turn around. A shadow emerged from the path a few yards away, coalescing into a Galra with white hair and an eerily familiar face. He held his hands up in a placating fashion.

Krolia hissed and unsheathed her sword. “What are you doing here, Highness?”

“‘Highness?’” Katie muttered, clutching the pommel of her own sword.

The stranger grinned and bowed. “I am Prince Lotor, and my business here is my own. However...” he cocked his head, “I believe our goals are similar.”

Katie looked the prince up and down, something close to disgust itching at her throat. “Are you suggesting we work together?”

Lotor shrugged. “Why not? There’s safety in numbers, and at the moment we’re dreadfully outmatched.”

Krolia stilled, and Green stopped pawing the ground. They both looked to Katie, and she bit her lip. There was truth in what he said, as much as she hated to admit it. She could guess what he was here for, but anything that increased their odds, even a power-hungry prince, had to be considered for Lance’s sake.

Taking their silence for agreement, Lotor clapped his hands together. “So, I believe you were saying something about sneaking inside?”

Krolia scowled and sheathed her sword. “Trying to enter through the front door would be suicide.”

“Agreed.” Lotor scanned the building. “We’ll run into fewer druids if we slip in through the slave quarters.” He ignored Katie’s disgusted glare and Krolia’s clenched jaw. “But we’ll still have the problem of getting past the witch’s druids. What we really need is a distraction.”

Green whinnied and jerked her head up and down several times.

“Are you sure?” Katie asked, petting her nose.

Lotor smirked. “Unicorns are beings of pure light magic. I can’t think of anything better to distract a witch.”

Katie glanced and Krolia, who shrugged. She looked just as upset as Katie felt. It wasn’t much of a plan to begin with. If they had more time…

Green bumped Katie’s shoulder. _We don’t have time for this._

“Okay, okay… Be careful,” Katie pleaded. Green winked and trotted down the path, leaving them in the ever-encroaching darkness.

Lotor unsheathed his sword. “Follow me.”

* * *

 

The three unicorns paused to rest at the edge of the foothills. Keith eyed the road ahead, a thin strip of grey winding through the black mountains. Maybe it was just the stiff mountain breeze, but something about those imposing peaks chilled him to the core.

Hunk and Ulaz both looked uneasy when they dismounted. Hunk plopped down on the side of the road and started checking his gun again. “I don’t know what happened, but I think I can guess,” he muttered.

Keith hopped off the unicorn with the red horn and raised an eyebrow. “You do?”

Hunk eyed him, his lips pressed shut.

“A powerful witch lives in these mountains. Few who enter ever return,” Ulaz explained.

“A witch?” Keith repeated. The phantom memory of the blazing ring of fire in the innyard did little to warm his blood.

Blue snorted and paced up and down the road, her gait stiff and nervous. Keith patted her side when she walked by. “Me too, Blue.”

* * *

 

The slave quarters looked as depressing as they sounded. Located on the west wing of the mansion, the empty window panes exuded an air of neglect and misery. As Lotor led them closer, Katie could see moss covering the cracked stonework like a patchwork blanket.

The prince signaled them to halt, creeping ahead to peek inside the closest window before nodding. “We’ll enter through here when the time is right.”

Katie glanced around. From their position at the side of the house, she couldn’t see the front doors or Green. “How will we know-?”

A bright white glow emanated from somewhere around the corner, followed by the sound of stone cracking and falling. Faint shouts of alarm reached them seconds later.

Lotor smirked. “That’s it.” He hopped over the window sill and disappeared inside.

Krolia placed a hand on Katie’s shoulder. “Are you sure about this? You can wait here.”

The wasn’t an option, nevermind the tremor in her hands or the cold sweat matting her bangs. Katie shook her head and climbed through the window.

Inside, it was dark and dank. The room seemed abandoned, just a place to dump broken furniture and tattered curtains. The moon cast crooked shadows against the wall, throwing her silhouette into disarray as she picked her way around the jagged corners and splintered edges of what had once been a lavish dining table. Behind her, she heard Krolia following close behind and saw the glow of Lotor’s keen eyes stalking toward the door.

He pressed a finger to his lips. “Do you hear that?”

Krolia nodded, Katie had to scoot past him and press her ear to the door first. She heard rustling and quiet, indistinguishable voices from the room beyond. Nodding, she backed up and drew her sword. Lotor held up three fingers, then two, then one.

With a mighty kick, the door flew off its hinges and slammed to the floor. Snarling, Lotor tackled the closest person and threw him to the ground, his sword swinging high.

“N-no! Stop!” Another person jumped at him, trying to wrestle the sword from Lotor’s grasp. Krolia darted in, yanking him away and into the glaring moonlight.

_Oh._

Wide brown eyes met hers, nearly identical but for the slightly darker hue. The scar just under his eye was new, and his hair had grown past his shoulders, but-

“Matt!”

Katie shoved Krolia aside and flung her arms around her brother. Relief, hot and scalding like a shot of liquor, flooded through her veins. Matt’s arms folded around her in confused hesitancy. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lotor blink and look down at his fallen would-be victim before getting up. Her father, ragged and out of breath _(but alive)_ sat up.

“Pidge?” Matt pushed her back to get a better look at her. “Pidge is that really you?” He wiped at the tears she hadn’t realized were flooding down her cheeks.

Katie nodded, her chest hitching with silent sobs. Samuel Holt stood and staggered over to his children, and they all crumpled together into a hugging, tearful mess.

“I knew you were alive! I knew it!” Katie cried, clutching them to her so tight her fingers ached.

(“We don’t have time for this,” Lotor muttered.

Krolia glared at him. “Shut up.”)

Sam patted Katie’s cheek, coaxing her away from that dearly missed spot in the crook of his neck. “Katie, what are you doing here?” His voice, once clear and sharp, now sounded hoarse with disuse. Looking him over, she could see the hollows in his cheeks and count his ribs through the tattered remnants of his shirt. Matt wasn’t much better, judging by the hungry leanness of his frame. Her gaze fell further down to the silver chains wrapped around their ankles.

“Who did this to you?” she demanded, already knowing the answer and physically shaking from the need to tear the witch to pieces. She might have known all the misery of the past year stemmed from this horrible place.

Matt shuddered. “Someone you never want to meet. Pidge, you need to leave-”

Katie bent down and picked up her discarded sword. Its weight felt comfortable and altogether pleasant in her hand. “No, I came here to kill her and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Lotor cleared his throat pointedly. “Speaking of which, we should probably get going while we still have the element of surprise.”

Right. Lance... Not just Lance, three people she loved depended on her now. She kissed her father’s cheek and hugged Matt, sliding out of their hold when they tried to keep her close.

“Katie, wait!” her father pleaded.

“I’ll be back soon,” she promised, hating the fear in their eyes, hating how she had to leave them there. “And when I get back, we can all-”

A thunderous crash echoed through the mansion, shaking it to its foundations. The ground slid out from under her, Katie tumbled into Krolia and they both crashed against the wall. Dust flew down in clouds, coating them into hues of grey until the shaking stopped.

“What was that?!” Matt choked out between coughs.

Lotor shook the dust out of his hair. “I didn’t think one unicorn was capable of that, especially against such a large concentration of dark magic.”

“I think we’ll find out one way or another,” Krolia said. “We need to hurry.”

Katie let her eyes linger over her family before shoving aside the heartache. She hadn’t come this far to lose everything now.

* * *

 

Haggar waited while the two druids dragged the star up the dais and laid him out on the altar. She snapped her fingers and the chain snaked around his body until he was completely bound. The star made little protest, his eyes fixed on the open sky high above. Once everything was in readiness, the druids bowed and retreated down the steps.

_What a pitiful prize for so much work_ , she thought bitterly. There wasn’t the slightest hint of a shine on this one, the heart would be a poor, cold thing indeed. Still, her first few stars had been like this, shivering and frightened, and she’d managed just the same. She would just have to be more… economical with her power.

The moon had reached its zenith. Now was the time of magic, where she would gain her reward and hold it up before the heavens in defiance of their light.

Her hands trembled with anticipation as she pulled down the collar of his shirt-... The blasted necklace was in the way. Her knife flicked down - the star jerked - and sliced through the silver in one clean stroke. She snatched the chain and flung it away. The gemstone clattered against the marble tiles and skittered to a stop by the wall.

Haggar pressed two fingers over the star’s heart, feeling for the addictive energy she’d craved so long.

...She could hear the heartbeat, a dull thumping pattern that sped up whenever she inched nearer. But the energy, the magic… Where was it?

Leaning back, she grabbed the star’s chin and forced him to look at her. He stared up uncomprehendingly, his eyes dull.

This was different. None of the others had been like this. It was almost as if he was… As if his heart was…

An explosion from the direction of the main entrance rocked her to her core, throwing her onto her back. Her palace shook from the force of it, and the sickeningly sweet aftertaste of light magic coated her tongue like half-melted wax. She gagged, her own dark magic striking out in protest. Her druids regained their feet first and helped her up.

Another druid ran in, his robes flapping behind him. “Mistress! We are under attack!”

Haggar sneered. “Obviously. By whom?”

“Just one unicorn at first, then three others came with riders! They’ve breached the entrance hall.” The druid panted harshly behind his mask. “What do we do?”

Four unicorns and their riders…

_The girl placed herself between Haggar and the star. Small and slender, she glared the witch down, even as the circle of flames shrank and the witch advanced._

_Her blazing left an impression of indomitable will that rattled Haggar for a few crucial seconds. Those eyes were the last thing she saw before the girl pulled out the candle and all three of them disappeared into the sky._

She turned to the druid on her right. “Macidus, take care of these pests.”

Macidus bowed and vanished into a wisp of shadow.

* * *

 

Two druids charged at Hunk’s unprotected back, their hands glowing with dark energy. Keith threw his knife at one of them, hitting him square in the chest, and ran the other one through with his sword. Hunk spared him a quick grin before firing a few shots at some druids in the upper balconies. Another druid materialized right next to Keith, and he barely had time to fend off a few blows before Blue charged and sent him bowling over.

Keith looked around the hall, but even with his improved night vision and the light streaming in through the (completely decimated) doorway, the inky shadows cast by the druids made it hard to see more than a few feet ahead. The only points of certainty were the unicorns circling around them, guarding their flanks as he, Hunk and Ulaz advanced. There was no sign of Katie or Lance.

“We can’t continue like this for long,” Ulaz panted, slashing through a druid with his blade.

“Don’t look at me, charging headfirst through the front door wasn’t my idea!” Hunk snapped. Three druids fell to the ground with bullets in their chests.

Keith ignored him. They just had to hold out long enough to find Katie and Lance. Just long enough to-

Five druids broke through and attacked in unison. Hunk shot down two before being blown back by a blast of energy. Keith dodged and swung up and high.

One of the druids shrieked and stared at the stump where a hand had been seconds before. Keith lunged, but the druid sidestepped and another grabbed his wrist. Black ice crawled up his arm and Keith’s knees buckled from the pain of it. He could feel the ice in his veins sucking all of his energy, leaving him light-headed and defenseless. The cold numbed his shoulder and started squirming toward his heart.

A familiar yell broke through the fog. He looked up just in time to see Katie stab the druid in the gut. The druid gurgled and fell back, breaking the deadly connection. Warmth immediately flooded through his system, leaving him giddy. “Katie!” he gasped, pulling her in for a hug.

He’d never been so happy to be on the receiving end of one of her bruising hugs. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. Her eyes were puffy and red when he got the chance to look at them. “We need to hurry, the witch has Lance.”

He shook his head. “What happened? How-”

“Look out!” a deeper female voice shouted. 

A strange Galra shoved them behind a column just as a jet of fire licked the spot where they’d been standing. Keith was squished between Katie and the stranger until the large unicorn (Hunk called him Yellow) trampled out the flames.

The Galra woman took a few steps back, but her eyes remained fixed on him. Keith couldn’t look away, try as he might. An ache he’d never realized existed was soothed when she reached out and pushed his bangs back.

He heard the grin in Katie’s voice. “Keith, this is Krolia.”

_Oh._

Krolia cupped his face with her hands, looking him over with loving care. “Keith, my son,” she whispered. 

He let himself be pulled into a hug, let himself enjoy her hand running through his hair as if she’d done so all his life. Thoughts of the battle fell away as all the hard bits and pieces in his chest melted into something gooey and tender and pliable.

Well, for about ten seconds at least.

“Where did Lotor go?” Katie hissed.

Krolia stiffened, and Keith remembered that, oh yeah, they were currently trying not to die. “Who’s Lotor?” he asked. Krolia didn’t answer but pointed up toward the stairs where a lone figure was climbing.

Katie growled and ran for the stairs, heedless of the magic missiles flying around her.

“Katie, wait!” Keith had to duck behind the column as a blast ricocheted off the floor. Biting his lip, he glanced back at his friends. The druids seemed to be tiring, and Hunk and Ulaz were making quick work of them now that their numbers had been thinned. But then again, the unicorns seemed to be wearying too.

He turned to Krolia, and she urged him on with a smile. “Go with her, save your friend.”

* * *

 

Skirting around the fight had been easier than he’d thought, all things considered. None of the druids noticed when Lotor slipped through the door at the top of the stairs.

He wrinkled his nose at the hundreds of animals lining the next room. Witchcraft really was a messy business.

Seeing no reason to linger, he hurried on to the next room. He paused at the threshold. A lone druid waited for him on the other side of the door, long fingernails tapping a pattern into a small table. Lotor surveyed the room, noting the tight quarters and multiple knives littering the tabletop.

“Are you the last line of defense?” he quipped, sliding into a defensive stance. 

The druid tilted his head, giving the impression of a bird that had encountered something new and curious. After a moment, he resumed his tapping. “I see. How unfortunate,” he sighed. “But perhaps my mistress will wish to revive you once she’s been renewed. ...Perhaps.”

An ugly smirk stretched across Lotor’s face. “If you’re referring to my mother,” he bit out, “I’m afraid I have no intention of playing family.”

The druid’s chuckle echoed off the walls. “My mistress has no need of a son, but a puppet might prove useful.”

Lotor was ready for the lunge, he’d seen the tensing in the druid’s shoulders that signified an attack. He parried and slashed at the clawed hands, staying well out of reach of the black fire wreathed around those claw-like fingers. Each failed attempt drew an enraged growl from behind the blank mask, and Lotor smirked. This creature had all the grace and skill of a rabid dog.

Finally, the druid leaped toward him and Lotor sprang out of the way, taking the opportunity to vault over the table and run for the door on the other side. He grabbed the handle and pulled, but the door didn’t budge an inch.

Hmm. Obviously, this door was enchanted. A minor setback. 

Lotor’s contemplation was interrupted by a sharp tug on his hair had that him spinning around just in time to see the druid backing away from him, his hand disappearing into the folds of his robes. The prince planted himself in front of the door. “I suppose this will only open when you’re dead?” he asked.

The druid tilted his head again. “No, but that’s none of your concern.” His hand reappeared, clutching a small clay doll. With the other, he wrapped what looked to be a thin piece of wire around the doll’s head. On closer inspection, Lotor realized the wire was actually a strand of white hair.

The druid grabbed the doll’s left leg and bent it at an unnaturally high angle.

Lotor’s left leg followed suit, his shin bones snapping in two. He screamed and toppled to the ground.

The druid twisted the doll’s right arm. Lotor’s right shoulder dislocated.

More tapping. 

Lotor lay on the ground, delirious with pain. Black fog crept into the corners of his vision, urging him to leave his consciousness behind. He’d never given in to such weakness before, so he pushed himself into a semblance of sitting up with his good arm. He watched helplessly as the druid grabbed one of the knives. It was a tiny thing, needle-thin and just as sharp. Gripping it tightly in one hand, the druid slowly pierced the doll’s chest.

A spot of red bloomed and spread across Lotor’s shirt like ink. He gagged and coughed up blood, more of it gushed from a tiny hole in his chest. The stabbing sensation inched deeper and deeper into his chest, puncturing his heart and slipping past his spine until another wound opened up on his back.

_How disappointing,_ he thought. _I wasn’t finished._

The druid watched him sink back to the ground, his chest heaving once, twice…

Sighing, the crowd of ghosts dispersed. Finally, they were free to go where they wished.

* * *

 

Katie and Keith stared at the rows of cages. The animals stared back warily, imploringly.

“As if I needed another reason,” Katie muttered. Keith had to agree. Most of the cages were too small for their occupants and all of them were filthy.

“We’ll rescue them as soon as we’re done,” he promised.

Katie squared her shoulders. “Right, Lance first.”

Something about the way she said Lance’s name made Keith pause. He thought of the hopeless pining he’d had to endure back on the ship, the way they skittered around each other only to exchange longing looks when they thought no one was looking. But now there was no hesitation in Katie’s eyes, no nervousness or uncertainty as she strode toward the next door. He almost had to jog to keep up with her. “Did you two… you know?”

Katie squinted at him. “What?”

The door swung open, forestalling his next question. All around them, the animals fell silent.

The Galra they were following, Lotor, stood in the doorway. He was hunched over at an odd angle, a curtain of long white hair obscuring his face, and his sword hung by his fingertips.

“Lotor? Are you alright?” Katie asked.

Lotor took a few steps forward, the tip of the sword scraped against the floor. Keith felt the hair on the back of his head rise. No one walked like that, stiff-legged and unnatural. And aside from his legs nothing else moved... He wasn’t even sure Lotor was breathing.

Katie seemed to get the same impression, because she backed up and raised her sword. “Lotor?” she repeated.

With a violent jerk, Lotor straightened, revealing a bloodied shirt and dead yellow eyes. His head lolled back like a limp rag, and Keith nearly gagged when his mouth fell open and a bit of blood dribbled out.

“So you are the ones who gave my mistress such trouble.”

Katie and Keith whipped around. A tall druid stood between them and their only other exit. He held out a clay doll for them to see and slowly raised the doll’s arm. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith saw Lotor raise his sword.

He spun and blocked the downstroke before it cleaved Katie’s head in two. She screamed and ducked, rolling and kicking at Lotor’s leg. Her face turned green when it swung like a pendulum. The druid manipulated the doll again, and Lotor (Lotor’s corpse, Keith realized) swung at him again. He locked hilts with Lotor and shoved him back into the cages just long enough to slide over so the corpse between them and the druid. The nearby animals started screeching and rattling their cages doors in a desperate need to escape.

“My mistress will be most pleased with me when I bring your bodies to lay at her feet,” the druid preened. His fingers were nimble and Keith dodged the next few lunges by the skin of his teeth. Katie ducked under his sword and slashed at Lotor’s arm, leaving a deep cut in his bicep that would have incapacitated a living person. Both the druid and the corpse were unfazed.

Keith glanced back at the imposing ebony door Lotor had emerged from and locked eyes with Katie. “Go.”

"I can't just let you fight a zombie by yourself!" Katie hissed, her eyebrows raising in disbelief.

Keith positioned himself between her and the shambling figure and backed her towards the door. "There’s time to argue! If you don't hurry Lance will die. Just go!"

She hesitated, huffed, and finally turned to go. “Just make sure you don’t die.”

“Not planning on it,” he grunted, parrying another blow. He waited until she’d slipped into the other room before grabbing the door and slamming it shut.

The druid laughed. “If you think a door will stop me from killing your friend, you are gravely mistaken.” He wiggled the doll in a teasing manner and Lotor shook like a jellyfish, “Still, I think I will take my time with you first.”

The next few minutes were a blur of motion and instinct. Keith held his own… barely. The room was crowded, affording little maneuverability, and his sword arm cramped from the tight movements he was forced to make - something that didn’t bother the tireless corpse. He tried cutting the tendons in Lotor’s legs, hoping that would make him drop, but the druid murmured something and Lotor started hovering an inch above the ground.

The noise wasn’t helping either. Between the growls and squeals and hooting, he barely heard the clash of steel against steel even when it happened a mere hair’s breadth from his face.

Inch by inch, Keith was being forced back. The relentless onslaught, untempered by the natural flow and ebb that was the norm of combat, was wearing him down. With an artful flick, The druid/Lotor sent his sword spinning out of his reach and he fell back, his palms scraping on the cool tiles.

Lotor hovered over him, his dull eyes a sick promise of what was to come. “You fought well, little one,” the druid said, “but this is where it ends. At least you proved to be an interesting opponent for my mistress.”

Keith pulled out his knife. It wouldn’t do much good against a sword, but it was all he had.

Cackling, the druid threw his head back. “You still fight? Even though I’ve proved you are nothing?”

A muscle in Keith’s jaw twitched. He was not nothing.

He was a carpenter’s son, a warrior’s son, a pirate, an ally, a friend. He was scared for his friends, for his mother. He was _angry_. This wasn’t how he wanted to die. This wasn’t how he was going to die. He knew who he was.

He was _not_ nothing.

Lotor stabbed down, aiming for the heart.

As Keith raised his knife to block it, the sigil on the hilt burst into flames. Purple fire traveled up the blade, twisting and changing and strengthening it until he was holding a curved sword.

Lotor’s sword skidded against the curved blade, leaving behind a trail of sparks and just missing Keith’s head. Keith didn’t waste a moment to wonder what had happened, he rolled to the side, sprang up, and brought his blade down on Lotor’s exposed neck. 

The prince’s head bounced on the floor and rolled a bit before settling into a corner. The doll crumbled into dust. The animals quieted and watched Lotor’s body slump to the floor.

"Impressive..." The druid sighed and shook the dust off his hands, "But there is no delaying the inevitable." He pointed a finger at Keith. A ball of black energy gathered at his fingertip and shot out before Keith could react.

The snowdrop flickered to life and created a silvery dome around Keith, the death ball bounced off harmlessly. Nonplussed, the druid lowered his arm and tilted his head. He gathered a bit of green fire in his hands and threw it at Keith. It fizzled out upon coming in contact with the shield.

The druid made a show of tapping his chin. "What an interesting dilemma... Not one I have time to puzzle over, unfortunately. Perhaps I'll just take care of your friend and then come back to you."

Keith bristled, his eyes narrowing to slits.

Someone growled in agreement.

He looked down and to his left, where a caged wolf was quietly snarling and glaring at the druid. The other wolves were growling too, as were most of the ferrets and weasels. Looking up, he saw all the birds of prey eyeing the druid with pure hatred.

Maybe...

"This is insane," he muttered, raising his sword. He smashed it against the cage door, cutting the lock in half.

The young wolf sprang out of its cage and pounced on the druid. its sharp teeth clamped down on his arm, eliciting an enraged bellow from the druid. He aimed a blast of magic at the wolf, but it sprang out of harm's way and snapped at his legs, snarling madly the whole time.

Keith opened the next cage, and the next, and the next until all the wolves were free. They rushed into the fray, bringing him to his knees in a matter of seconds. Keith freed the ferrets and weasels, the martins, the eagles, the ravens, the crows. They all converged on the seething pile of limbs and teeth and spit.

The druid screamed and tried to create more fire, but the animals gave him no quarter. He disappeared beneath the mass of vengeful creatures, and one of them must have gotten to his throat because his whimpers died off with brutal suddenness.

Keith looked away when the animals started wandering off to eat their meals in peace. One of the wolves, the young one, padded to Keith's side and let him scratch behind its ears.

* * *

 

There were so many knives. Katie lingered over the table, unable to pull her eyes away from them. Behind her, she heard the muffled clang of steel against steel. Ahead lay another door.

So many knives…

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Lance wasn’t dead yet, he couldn’t be.

When she tried to open the door, it didn’t budge.

She nearly burst into tears.

“No!” she screamed, yanking at the ornate door handle, then she hurled herself at it in an attempt to knock it over. The door didn’t so much as squeak.

“Nononono….” She rested her hands on her knees and forced herself to _think_.

The door’s sturdiness was supernatural, probably a magical lock. Did she have anything that could counteract it? Probably not, if it was anything like those silver chains it’d never break. So what was left?

She straightened and stared at the wall surrounding the door. Like everything else, it was made of marble. Could she chip her way through? Maybe, if she had a month or so. She needed something fast, like a sledgehammer, or dynamite, or-

“Oh!” Katie tore her pack open and reached inside, feeling for the smooth metal canister. She pulled it out and, after taking a few steps back, aimed it at the wall.

“This is insane,” she muttered, twisting the lid off.

A bolt of lightning shot out and smashed against the wall, spider-webbing over the smooth surface. For a long, terrible moment the wall remained steadfast, and she feared the lightning wouldn’t be strong enough to break through. In response to such a traitorous thought, the canister shook as an unprecedented surge of electricity burst out.  The marble tiles exploded, leaving a man-sized hole in its wake. Katie capped the canister and hopped through.

The room beyond was large and filled with light, a stark contrast to the rest of the manor. She barely noticed the change, her eyes were fixated on the grim black altar and the hooded figure hovering over it. The witch’s stare burned with a fury that nearly matched her own.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!” she screamed, drawing her sword.

Lance gasped and craned his neck to look at her. His red-rimmed eyes widened in disbelief and he mouthed soundless words. After a few moments he went limp, and his tiny sob wrenched at her heart. “Pidge?” he whispered.

Two druids emerged from the shadows, one on either side, their arms outstretched toward her. She ducked and stabbed the first druid in the gut, then slashed the other’s throat in quick succession. They both fell and didn’t get up.

“Pidge!” Lance repeated, a tremulous blue glow enveloping his body. The witch looked at him in surprise.

“I said get away from him!” Katie yelled, rushing toward the dais.

Haggar let her come, circling around the altar to meet her. “What a strange girl you are. Who would have thought a simple human like you could be such a thorn in my side,” she murmured.

Katie paused a few feet from the dais. Her hands were shaking again, this time with rage. “I have a score to settle with you, witch.”

Lance struggled against his chains, the hope in his voice turning to panicked fear. “Pidge, don’t!”

“Shut up, Lance. I love you!” Katie snapped, pointed her sword at Haggar. “I won’t let her hurt you or your family ever again.”

The witch smiled a tiny, condescending smile. “You will fail.” She pointed her knife at Katie’s sword, the tip of the curved blade turning red.  

The sword hissed and scorched into Katie’s palm. She let go with a yell and stared at the burns running along her fingers. In the few seconds it took to hit the ground the sword had melted into a puddle.

“What now, little hero?” Haggar asked, her smile growing into a frightful slash across her mouth. She descended the steps and slowly stalked toward the girl.

What now indeed? That sword had been Katie’s only means of defense. Her foot bumped into a piece of rubble, and for a moment she just stared at the floor. Chunks of marble from the decimated wall were scattered all around her. Maybe…

It pricked at her pride, but she made a show of gulping and tried to look as scared as possible. In all truthfulness, she didn’t have to try very hard. Haggar’s eyes shone from beneath her deep cowl with vindictive pleasure.

If this didn’t work… well, she could imagine what her fate might be. She took a moment to look over the witch’s shoulder at Lance. He stared back, lip trembling, and more than anything she wanted to wipe away the tears streaming down his face. The witch followed her gaze, her eyes lingering over Lance in a possessive arrogance that enraged Katie beyond words. Turning back, she sneered. “How disappointing. You were so brave a few ticks ago.”

“Yeah, well, I just wanted to make sure Lance didn’t get hurt.” Katie whipped out the lightning canister from behind her back.

Fear marred Haggar’s cruel smile in the split second it took Katie to unscrew the lid. The last bit of lightning zapped through the air, casting harsh shadows across every surface in the room. It connected with the closest possible target, and Haggar, unlike the wall, was not at all sturdy. The force of the blow sent the knife spinning from her hand and picked her like a leaf in a violent gale. She flew in a perfect arc over the altar before slamming into the far wall with a bone-cracking thud.

Katie capped the canister and scooped up the knife before running to the altar. She grabbed one of Lance’s hands and bent down to kiss his cheek, reveling in the feeling of his warm skin against hers.

“Is she…?” Lance whispered, his eyes still round with shock. Katie straightened and stared at Haggar’s frail figure. The knife felt foreign and clumsy in her hands, but she liked the idea of finishing Haggar off with her own weapon. She waited for the crumpled heap to twitch, breathe... anything. 

The witch didn’t move, aside from the smoke drifting off the charred robes she was completely still.

It just couldn’t be that easy.

“Pidge, look!” Lance propped himself up on one elbow, able to do so because the silver chains were melting away. They waited with baited breath until the last speck of silver had evaporated.

Pure relief slowed her thundering heartbeat to a steady thrum. She let the knife slip through her fingers and clatter to the floor. “I guess she really is- mmph!”

Lance wrapped his arms around her neck and yanked her down for a kiss. Katie reciprocated gladly, slotting her lips more comfortably against his. She let one of her hands trail down to the pulse thundering in his neck, eager for more evidence that he was alive and safe.

He pulled back far sooner than she liked, and she chased after his lips with a pout. He soon made up for it by littering her face and neck with smaller kisses. Katie giggled when he reached a ticklish spot under her ear. The sound made him freeze, and she felt more tears drip against her collarbone.

Katie leaned back, caught off guard by his desolate expression. She brushed the back of her knuckles against his cheek. “Lance? Are you hurt? Did she hurt you? I’m sorry, I should have gotten here sooner.” Her eyes scanned his body frantically, trying to find the source of discomfort.

Lance shook his head. “I thought you were dead,” he said, and his blue aura dimmed to a dull gleam. “I thought she’d-... I thought-” His breath hitched and he looked away.

“Oh, Lance…” The sight of him splayed out across the altar was unpleasant. She helped him sit up and placed a hand on either side of his legs. “I’m right here, Lance,” she whispered. A voice in the back of her head told her it was dangerous to let her guard down so quickly. They were still far from safe, and the sooner they left this terrible place behind them the better. But Lance’s pale face and shaking hands stole her attention, made her nuzzle against him and pull him in for a hug.

“I love you,” she murmured against his heart.

The blue glow returned full force, enveloping them both in a sphere of warmth and comfort. “I love you too.” Lance sniffed and kissed the top of her head.

They stayed there for a few minutes, content to stay wrapped in each other’s arms indefinitely. Katie found herself making new plans for the first time in over a year. She needed to introduce Lance to her father and Matt. They all needed to go to Wall, _her_ Wall, and reunite with her mother. Mr. Kogane needed to know Krolia was alive and free. Maybe they could bring Coran along and finally introduce him to the human world.

And then… and then she’d make new plans. Plans that hopefully involved Lance staying by her side. The future stretched out before her in endless possibilities now that everyone she loved was safe.

A dull boom from the entrance hall and the subsequent shudder brought her back to her senses. She sighed and stepped back, leaving one of her hands intertwined with Lance’s. “We should go.”

He nodded and slid off the altar, and Katie couldn’t help but check the far wall one more time, just to be…

Lance froze, his gaze fixed on something just over Katie’s shoulder.

“I owe you thanks, child.”

_Of course it was too easy. Too easy, too easy, too easy-_

Katie turned around, numb and ready for Haggar’s triumphant grin. She waited for them at the bottom of the steps, her hair was wild and unkempt from the electric shock it had received. Patchy burns along her exposed neck and arms stood out against her pale violet skin. The knife was back in her hand.

“I had no use for his heart when it was broken, but now it’s become quite a rare feast,” Haggar continued, swaying a bit from side to side. Her speech was garbled and broken. “I’m eager to see what infatuation does to a star’s heart. All of it for me, all mine. All that power _mine_ once more...”

_She’s insane_ , Katie realized. The witch’s eyes were nothing more than blank yellow slits, her mouth a gaping black hole lined with sharp teeth and strings of saliva. Every few seconds she would twitch and shake. Her body seemed little more than a bag of skin and bones held together by magic.

Still, their chances of running away or fighting her off seemed dismally small. Katie took a deep breath and gathered up her last scraps of courage.

Lance grabbed her shoulders, pulling her eyes away from the ravening witch. He tilted her chin up and, to her amazement, grinned. It wasn’t the cocky grin she’d grown accustomed to on the ship, the confidence in the crook of his smile was real. “Pidge, hold me tight and close your eyes.”

She frowned. “Why?”

* * *

 

Even now, in this ostensibly horrible situation, she managed to make him laugh. Lance kissed her furrowed brow, taking the moment to appreciate just how glad he was she was still alive.

The witch was shambling toward them now, her thin frame shaking from the effort it took to climb the steps. Her wretched condition almost made him feel sorry for her. 

Almost.

“What do stars do?” Lance asked. He tucked Katie’s head under his chin, and she wrapped her arms around him.

_“Shine.”_

With Pidge by his side, it was so, so easy. Fueled by her love, strengthened by her bravery, he began to shine as he once had among his family. His aura bloomed into an incandescent ball of light, creating a bubble of pure cosmic energy around them. It grew in size and brilliance until it encompassed half the room, reducing the altar and anything else tainted with dark magic to dust.

Haggar stumbled back, a semblance of sanity returning to her glowing eyes as she lifted her hands to protect herself. Black sparks sputtered from her fingertips and swirled into a wavering shield around her. Lance’s power battered against it, relentless, otherworldly and vengeful. It jabbed through the gaps in her magic, igniting her tattered robes and flickering up her arms and legs.

After a few moments, the witch lowered her arms and her mouth opened in a silent, agonized scream. Lance closed his eyes. As much as she deserved this, he didn’t want to see what happened next.

He focused on his family, the brothers and sisters waiting for him in the sky and the ones lost to this evil place. He could feel Pidge’s breath against his neck, hot and quick, her heart matching his beat for beat.

He’d forgotten how good this felt. There was nothing so wonderful as loving and being loved in return.

Only when the last traces of Haggar’s presence were burned away did Lance begin to dim. He reined in his magic and light until it settled into a manageable shimmer on his skin. Katie dared to open her eyes and look around. She gawked at the pile of ash settling on the bottom step.

Her beautiful brown eyes widened and, as she looked upat him, filled with stars. “Lance, that was…” She trailed off and squinted suspiciously. “Why didn’t you do that sooner?”

Lance rolled his eyes, his annoyance thoroughly tinged with fondness for her irrepressible human nature. “I couldn’t do that without you, Pidge. No star can shine with a broken heart.” Her eyes softened and she got on her tiptoes to kiss him.

The door slammed open, they jumped and sprang apart.

Keith ran into the room, his sword drawn and eyes wild. “Katie! Lance!” He bounded up the steps, heedless of the pile of ash he stomped through, and pulled them both into a hug so tight Lance couldn’t breathe. “Are you guys okay? Where’s the witch?”

Katie wheezed and pushed him off. “Yeah, we’re okay, and you stepped on her.”

Keith blinked and stared down at the ashes scattered over the floor and his boots. “Ew.”

More people rushed into the room, and Lance caught a glimpse of the Galra woman from the black market before Hunk descended and swept them all into a group hug. “I can’t believe it! You’re all alive!” he shouted. Lance resigned himself to death by hugs.

* * *

 

“What happened to the rest of the druids?” Keith asked, rubbing his sore ribs. His heart was only now beginning to settle. Everyone seemed to be fine, if a little worse for wear.

Hunk scratched the back of his head. “Dead or disappeared. It was close though, if that black unicorn hadn’t shown up…” He waved the thought away. “We should probably still leave as soon as possible. Like, right now. Please.”

“Agreed,” Krolia said. She smiled at Keith, warm and proud, and he ducked his head. A mother’s love was something he’d have to get used to. 

His eyes landed on something small and glittering near the wall.

Curious, he broke away from the group and bent down, brushing aside some rubble. It was Lance’s necklace.

“Lance, I found your necklace.” He picked it up and got to his feet, holding out the necklace for Lance to see. As he did so, the black gem blazed to life, illuminating his face and chest in a violet glow. He yelped and nearly dropped the thing, but managed to catch hold of the chain before it hit the ground.

Lance and Hunk both gasped, their mouths forming perfect ‘O’s. Ulaz, after a moment of stunned silence, got down on one knee and bowed his head.

“Oh gods,” Krolia mumbled, pressing a hand over her mouth.

Keith… didn’t understand. He stared at the gem resting comfortably in his palm. The initial burst of light had died down, and now the purple gemstone merely flickered with a hidden fire.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Katie asked, tugging on Lance’s hand.

Lance swallowed hard. “Keith ignited the Flame.”

It took a moment for the horror of the situation to sink in. “I... what?” He glanced down at the stone, then at his mother for confirmation. She simply nodded.

“I- No, I didn’t- No! _No!_ ”

 


	11. A Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night." - Sarah Williams

They made it to the forest by sunrise thanks to Blue’s unerring guidance. The journey through the mountains was quiet, save for the murmur of one person after another as everyone slowly shared their stories. There was so much to say, almost too much.

Katie groaned, her legs nearly buckling underneath her when she finally collapsed on a fallen log. Matt sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. They sighed in unison, caught up in the simple joy of each other’s company.

It took a few moments for Katie to muster up the strength to not fall asleep right then and there. The adrenaline rush that had powered her through the past two days was long gone, leaving her limbs aching for rest. She heard her father’s light footsteps and leaned into his hug when he sat down and sandwiched her between him and Matt. His salt and pepper beard scratched against her ear when he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I can hardly believe we’re free,” he murmured. Matt hummed in agreement.

The rush of contentment that followed was bittersweet, but Katie embraced it nonetheless. A year of plans and fervent hopes fell behind, now the path forward was clear and certain. …Mostly.

She cracked open an eye when Keith’s strained voice caught her attention. He was clutching the Flame in one hand and arguing with his mother.

“There has to be a way to pass it on to someone else!” he hissed.

Krolia folded her arms. “The Flame will only go out once you are dead, which will not happen for a long time if I have my way. Like it or not, you are the king of Daizabaal.”

“I don’t want to be king!”

Ulaz rubbed his chin. “Most people would say that’s a very encouraging sign of your future leadership.”

Keith scowled and pulled back his arm to throw the necklace away. Eyes flashing, Krolia caught his wrist. “Don’t you dare.”

A soft chuckle made Katie twist in her seat. Lance stood a few feet away, surrounded by the small herd of unicorns. He looked as exhausted as she felt, but she could also see how jittery his hands were when he ran his fingers through Blue’s mane. The soft blue aura around him had yet to fade, which she chose to take as a good omen.

“He’s really the evening star?”

Katie blinked and met Matt’s inquisitive gaze. After a moment she nodded and he whistled. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Hunk gathered up a big pile of moss and leaves and they all slept through the day and most of the night - even Lance.  

* * *

 

A familiar, spindly figure was waiting for them at the gap in the Wall. His neurotic pacing stuttered to a halt as they approached, Slav’s eyes nearly popping right out of their sockets.

Krolia leaned against the Wall. “I remember you,” she said, her eyes softening. “I gave you…”

Slav blinked owlishly at her. “Ah, yes.” He glared at Katie and Keith. “I have been guarding this Wall for fifty years, and I have never seen anything quite like this.” He jabbed his staff toward Sam and Matt. “And as for you. Well, did you enjoy your little stunt? Eh?”

Sam held up a hand before Slav’s bristly mustache could puff up even more. “I can honestly say Matt and I are sincerely sorry we tricked you and crossed the Wall,” he apologized, a half-dead look in his eyes.

Somewhat mollified, Slav stepped away from the gap and gestured with his staff. “I see. Everyone who belongs on this side, get over here.”

Katie turned and grabbed Lance’s hand. “Come on.”

Biting his lip, Lance took a step back and wouldn’t meet her gaze. Something akin to panic shortened her breath.

“He cannot cross the Wall,” Krolia explained. “If he does, he will die.”

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispered, peeking at her. “I really wanted to meet your mom.”

Okay. Okay. “Just…” Katie looked over her shoulder at her family. “Just wait. Here. And I’ll bring her to you.” (Slav hmphed, she ignored him.)

Krolia sighed and placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “I’ll stay here as well. I don’t think I’d get a warm reception in your village.”

“I’ll grab dad, and then we can…” Keith trailed off. Nodding, Krolia pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Hunk raised a hand. “Can I come along? The Captain would never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t get him a souvenir.”

It didn’t feel right, leaving Lance behind the Wall, but her father was tugging her along and Lance was letting go. Numb anticipation filled her chest and fogged her head as they crossed into the human realm. The gentle slope leading to the village, once so familiar, was now foreign territory. She stumbled and tripped several times, each time being caught by Matt or Keith before she could topple to the ground.

(“Hey, you’re not purple anymore,” Matt said. Keith looked down at his suddenly pale skin and ran his tongue across his fangless teeth.

“Huh.”

Hunk made a face. “That’s so weird, I’ve never seen you not purple.”

“I’ve spent most of my life not purple, Hunk.”)

The numbness only grew as they passed the first few houses. Nothing had changed, same square, same shops, same people. They gawked and whispered, their faces round with shock. One elderly grandame held up a small cross. The news spread like wildfire: Samuel Holt and Son returned from the dead. A small crowd had gathered by the time they reached the grocers, though none dared to approach until Allura shoved her way through and flung her arms around Katie and Keith.

“Where have you been?!” she demanded, clutching them tight. “Katie, your mother, she’s been out of her mind with worry. And Keith-” she shook her head and released them with a final squeeze before dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Holt, and you, Matt.”

“It’s good to be back, Miss Altea.”

The crowd roiled and parted, leaving just enough room for a slim, worn silhouette to slip through. Colleen Holt stopped just shy of the small group, her starving eyes eating up the sight.

“Sam…”

A few people actually cheered when they embraced. Colleen kissed every inch of his face, then Matt’s. Katie waited for her turn patiently, the icy balloon in her chest finally popping when her mother cupped her face in both hands. “You found them,” Colleen said, pride and parental worry battling against each other.

Katie nodded and tucked her head against her mother’s shoulder. “Yup.”

“You’re grounded.”

* * *

 

Lance tossed another apple slice into the air and watched Blue catch it in her mouth with a deft swipe. Red snorted and nudged her aside, eager for his turn.

Slav watched them suspiciously from his side of the gap as if Lance and Krolia might lead a charge against humanity if he took their eyes off them for a second. Lance didn’t feel much like moving. Ulaz had left for the village of Wall (the fey village) not too long ago to see if he could find another Blade and relay what had happened. It was just a matter of waiting for everyone to return.

“You gave your heart to her, didn’t you?” Krolia asked, looking up at the clouds.

Lance eyed her.

“You know what that entails, right?”

He cut up another slice and held it out for Green.

“Have you told her?”

Yellow lipped at his hand until he gave up the rest of the apple.

Krolia leaned closer. “How badly do you want to go home?”

Lance closed his eyes. “I don’t know anymore,” he confessed. The mossy stones he was sitting against were a visceral reminder of everything that stood in the way of what his heart wanted. He didn’t belong in Katie’s world, this world, as much as he loved her and she loved him.

“What should I do?”

After a moment of silence, he glanced at her. Krolia wasn’t looking at him, or the sky. Her attention seemed to be focused on something beyond the Wall, her hands clenching and unclenching in rapid succession as she got to her feet. Lance scrambled upright as well, eager to see…

No Katie.

Keith and a stranger approached the Wall. As soon as he caught sight of Krolia, the older man broke into a run, leaping over the gap in a wiser echo of a night twenty years earlier. He and Krolia collided on the other side, swaying from the force of their embrace. The atmosphere around them left Lance feeling heavy and dull, he turned away and watched Keith climb over the gap, his skin deepening back into a lavender hue.

“Where’s Katie?”

Keith shrugged, not taking his eyes off his parents. “She’s grounded. I don’t think her mom’s going to let her go back to the Wall any time soon.”

Lance pressed a hand against the stones, letting himself feel the cracks and sharp edges.

* * *

 

In the end, Katie had to sneak out of the house again. It was almost dusk by the time she returned and saw the pale blue glow. Slav looked up from his book, sighed, and made no move to stop her. She grabbed Lance as soon as she crossed and got on her tiptoes for a kiss. It hadn’t been so very long, just half a day, but she felt breathless just the same.

“Sorry,” she gasped. “Sorry, sorry. My mom’s… emotional, right now. And protective. And-”

“It’s okay,” Lance chuckled, kissing her nose. “If it were my mom, she wouldn’t let me out of her sight for the next thousand years.”

She looked around at the mostly empty field. “Where did everyone go?”

Lance pointed to the woods. “Keith and his parents went back to the village, and Ulaz left to report to his… boss?”

“And you stayed? Alone?”

Shrugging, he gestured to the unicorns grazing nearby. “Not alone.” He looked over her shoulder and raised his voice. “And Slav is an amazing conversationalist.”

Slav peeked over the Wall and glared.

Katie didn’t like the idea of him waiting for her. Lance hooked his arms around her waist. “Don’t frown,” he pleaded.

She pressed a hand against his heart just to feel it beating.

“Katherine Holt!”

Lance yelped and sprang away.

Katie waited a second to calm her racing heartbeat before turning around. Colleen stood on the other side of the Wall, a healthy five feet away from the hole, Sam, Matt, and Hunk meekly behind her. “Get over here this instant,” she hissed. Hunk sidled past her and hopped over the gap, clutching a large basket to his chest.

“Mom, it’s okay-”

“The three of you disappear behind this damn Wall and I’m just supposed to let you- you-… _fling_ yourself back into danger?!”

Behind her, she heard Lance and Hunk whispering:

“So, I picked out a suit and this dress for Coran, do you think he’ll like it?”

“Ooh! I love this fabric!”

“Right?”

Katie inhaled deeply. “Mom. I get it.”

“I don’t think you fully comprehend the situation-”

“I UNDERSTAND MORE THAN YOU THINK!” Katie bellowed.

Oh, too quiet. It was far too quiet.

Lance placed a hand on the small of her back.

“Mom,” she tried again. “I know how hard it’s been for you. But I have a place on this side of the Wall now just as much as I do with you.” She reached behind and intertwined her fingers with Lance’s. “Please don’t make me choose.”

Colleen took a step forward, her pale face regaining a bit of color. “You mean him?” she finally asked, a small, choked sound.

Lance exhaled hard in Katie’s ear. “Hello, Mrs. Holt. I’m-”

“-Lance. I’ve heard about you.”

She felt him cringe. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Colleen huffed out a small laugh, the barest hint of a smile peeking through. “That remains to be seen, young man.”

* * *

 

_One month later…_

A shocked silence hung around the council chamber. Keith acutely felt the dozens of eyes boring into him, trying to pry into his thoughts. The room was near the top of the Fortress, so when he looked out he could see the entirety of the land everyone wanted him to rule.

The thought still made his stomach curdle.

Finally, the Minister of State spoke up. “Majesty, I believe you have been informed several times that abdication is not an option. We have followed the Flame for hundreds of thousands of years. It has chosen you to lead us. The kingdom is already unstable as it is, were you to abandon your position, it would fall into absolute chaos.”

Keith placed his hands flat on the table. “I’m not abdicating, I’m just taking some time before I’m officially coronated.” Several people started to speak at once, only to fall silent when he raised a hand (that was still so weird). “I was raised in the human realm, I hardly know anything about this land, or the people living here. Daizabaal deserves a ruler who understands the needs of the people, and until I do, I can’t be the king this country needs.” He paused to clear his throat.

Kolivan narrowed his eyes. “What are you proposing?”

Keith swallowed and reminded himself that this was a good plan, Katie and Lance had helped him work it out. “I’m going to spend a year traveling around Daizabaal as a normal citizen. I’ll meet as many different fey as I can, learn their cultures, and find out what needs to be fixed.” A low murmur ran through the table. Some of the ministers and generals nodded, while others looked skeptical. “And while I’m gone, I’ll be entrusting leadership to those most capable, those who have dedicated their lives to run the country,” he nodded toward the Minister of State, “but also to those who wish to rectify the institutional problems that have plagued Daizabaal for centuries,” he pointed to Kolivan and the cluster of Blades gathered behind him.

“This is an… interesting proposal, Majesty,” Commander Lahn growled. “But the fact remains, we need someone on the throne while you take your little journey.”

Keith kept his eyes locked with Krolia, silently begging his mother to understand. “In that case, I believe Dowager Krolia would be a fine choice.”

Krolia bristled. “I am not a Dowager!” she snapped. Daniel hid a smile behind his hand.

Glancing down at the rumpled sheet of paper in his lap, Keith read off the last step in Katie’s plan: _Ultimatum._

He sat up straighter and puffed out his chest. “Listen, you need me to be your king, but I am not taking up the position until I know I can handle the responsibility. That’s all there is to it.”

An uneasy torpor fell over the room.

Keith crumpled the paper into his pocket and stood up. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow after I officially declare Dowager Krolia ruler in my absence.” Each step reverberated against the thick stone walls and ceiling as he circled the table and exited the room.  

Katie and Lance pounced on him as soon as the door shut behind him. “Well?” Lance demanded.

Keith blew out a long breath and clutched at their shoulders for balance. “I did it.”

Katie stared him down. “And?”

“And I didn’t give them a chance to say no.”

She grinned and patted his head. “Good job.”

“Damn right you didn’t, you’re the king!” Lance whooped.

Keith scowled. “Right.” The Flame flickered in a way that could only be described as smug against his chest.

The trio started wandering down the hall. “So, Coran’s going to be waiting for us at Taujeer Cove,” Katie said, grinning up at him.

“Great.” He paused. “Katie, are you sure you’re okay with this? Wouldn’t you rather spend more time with your family than travel who knows where with me?”

Her nose slid up into a familiar crease, the one she made when pondering an important question. “I’ve talked it over with my family,” she sighed. “A lot. We did a lot of talking.” Her voice softened into something wistful. “I don’t think I’m ready to quit traveling, there’s too much to do… So I might as well do it with my best friend, right?” She nudged his shoulder.

“Ditto,” Lance said. “I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be than with you two.” He coughed. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I know more about Daizabaal than either of you.”

Happiness, warm and deep, flooded through Keith, and he smiled his first true smile of the day.

* * *

 

For someone who had lived through centuries upon centuries in the bat of an eye, Lance had to admit that the following year felt very, very long. Not because it was boring - quite the opposite - but because it was filled with millions of tiny moments that he’d never experienced before, even if he was limited to the realm of the fey.

They spent the first part of their journey up and down the coast, traveling with Coran and his crew - official privateers rather than pirates now, thanks to Keith - to every legal and illegal port in Daizabaal. Lance discovered a love for swimming and the ocean itself. It was nearly as deep and just as mysterious as his home above.

(On clear nights when the sea was calm, he would float on his back and bathe in moonlight.

Katie was always waiting for him on the shore, her head propped on her knees. When she tilted her head up for a kiss, her eyes blazed with stars.)

After a while they traveled inland, hopping from town to town. While Keith tried to get a grasp on the social and political issues facing his soon-to-be subjects, Katie and Lance often snuck away to find the local nightlife. There was always new food to try, new sights to see, new people to meet. Safe in anonymity, he didn’t have to spend his time looking over his shoulder for the next enemy who wished him harm.

Speaking of which, when they traveled to the crossroads at the edge of the Olkari Forest, the trio was amazed to discover the crossroad inn was still open. The two fey who’d been coerced into helping Haggar had taken over the inn when she left and turned it into a legitimate business. The beds were still as nice as Lance remembered.

They were also witnesses to the gradual changes for the better. Under Krolia and Kolivan’s leadership, the military stranglehold on finance and trade was broken, and its commanding officers were “politely” encouraged to stop warmongering and focus their attention on other issues - mainly the Dowager’s pet project of eradicating the slave trade. Positions of power were opened to fey other than the Galra, giving voices to fey that had been ignored for hundreds of years.  

Frequent visits were made to Wall - one of Colleen’s many stipulations was that Katie visit at least once a month - and after those first few visits with Lance standing awkwardly on one side of the Wall and Katie’s family on the other, Colleen felt brave enough to cross it and visit the fey town herself. After her first meeting with the gregarious captain, Colleen proudly took it upon herself to introduce Coran to the human realm, and they crossed the Wall arm in arm.

(Slav retired soon after.)

She also took the news that Katie kinda… sorta… _might_ be pregnant rather well. It probably helped that Keith insisted on buying Katie and Lance their own house in Wall so the Holts wouldn’t have to travel far to visit.

And when the year ended, and the coronation finally came despite Keith dragging his feet, Lance was given a gift. During the gala that followed, while Katie teased Keith about nearly tripping over his long robes, Krolia approached with a small white box.

“For both of you,” she said.

* * *

 

Katie didn’t notice anything really strange for the first ten years or so.

After Amara was born, with Leander and Guinevere close behind, most of her time was taken up raising her small family with Lance and helping Keith establish libraries and universities across Daizabaal. It wasn’t as if she’d ever cared that much about her appearance anyway, and keeping company with practically immortal creatures made her forget about the usual passage of time.

Matt pointed it out when he came by for her thirtieth birthday.

So now she was standing in front of the mirror. It was true, there were no wrinkles, no signs of greying hair or age spots. Even with a slightly fuller figure, she could easily pass for an eighteen-year-old maiden.

_“You haven’t aged a day, Pidge.”_

Lance managed to sneak up behind her, despite the mirror, and kissed the nape of her neck. “What are you thinking about?” he whispered. He still looked the same as he always had, but that was to be expected.

“I’m thirty.”

A chuckle tickled her ears. “Yes.”

She twisted in his hold enough to place a hand on his jaw. “Lance, why do I still look the same? Why haven’t I…?” she trailed off, not quite sure what she should be asking.

Lance leaned into her touch. She waited the long minute it took for him to speak.

“Do you remember when I asked you if you’d ever want immortality?”

Phantom memories of branches poked into her arms. “I said I didn’t want it. The cost was too high.”

His smile was small and bitter. “If it’s taken by force.” He took one of her hands and pressed it against his chest. “But I gave my heart to you, Pidge. It’s yours.”

Katie opened and closed her mouth. Humans were mortal, and even the fey with their longevity had to die sometime. No one could live forever… unless they possessed the heart of a star.

“So I’m-?”

He nodded. “I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry.”

Katie tangled her fingers into his hair. She could hear Amara and the twins playing with Matt through the open window. Matt, who was already grey around the temples.

“Please, tell me what you’re thinking,” Lance begged, and Katie realized she’d been silent for too long.

“It’s not… terrible,” she started, refraining a chuckle when Lance winced. “I mean it. So long as I don’t have to spend eternity alone-”

He pressed closer. “You won’t.”

She kissed the worried furrow off his face. “I love you.”

He glowed for a moment, but soon dimmed a bit and pulled back. “I have one more confession to make,” he said.

Lance pulled a white box out of his drawer, one Katie had never seen before, and handed it to her. “It’s your decision.”

She undid the latch and opened the lid. Resting on a white velvet cushion, a small candle the color of tar gleamed dully in the midday sun.

Katie ran a finger over the soft velvet before snapping the box shut. “…Not for a while, yet.”

They waited a long while.

There was still so much to enjoy, after all. Watching her children grow up and discover their own passions was an adventure in and of itself, and it wasn’t as if she’d ever truly grown out of her wandering habits. Time had always been the enemy, that one factor in her plans she could never work around, and now she had the smug satisfaction of knowing she literally had all the time in the world.

It was hard, though, watching her family move with the years while she remained unchanged. The first great shock came when her father died peacefully in his sleep. A few years later, her mother left as well. Matt’s funeral, when it came, was the hardest. It was too lonely, standing there surrounded by friends and family and knowing one day they’d be gone too. She never traveled to the human realm after that.

Even Keith, half fey though he was, started to age.

The three of them met one last time, right before her one-hundredth birthday.

“I’ll watch for you every night,” he promised.

So, with their children and grandchildren grown, it was time to light the candle.

* * *

 

The faculty at the Royal Academy of Science was amazed by the discovery - rather, the rediscovery - of the evening star nearly a hundred years after it had disappeared in the late 18th century. Astronomers trained their telescopes on the star, eager for the chance to observe this wayward light.

After cross-checking with several sources, the Academy came to the conclusion that the evening star was, in fact, two stars orbiting around each other in a binary system. While records did not indicate as such before its mysterious disappearance, leading experts waved the discrepancy away. After all, the telescopes of two hundred years ago were not nearly as advanced as the instruments available in this day and age. The astronomers of the past could be excused, especially since the stars in question were remarkably close, nearly indistinguishable from each other even when observed with the strongest lens.

As for why the star had disappeared in the first place… well, who could say?


End file.
